Son of the Father
by DC Luder
Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe. Revised edition now available.
1. Captive Knight

Title: Son of the Father: Captive Knight

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

V

"Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father!"

Lydia M. Child

V

On third night, we took action.

But after three years, mere days seemed to pass by like seconds.

I had been in the Detective's city for nearly seventy-two hours without being discovered. Instead of directly engaging in a violent encounter with him, I had decided to utilize a new approach. And dreading failure, I had accompanied the small group of men in order to ensure its success. Under strict orders, Ricard, one of my stealthier guards, had been discretely following the Detective as he made his tours of the city. Although there were several variations in his routes, the pattern soon became nearly as predictable as it was methodical.

Although costly and risky, this new approach in confronting the Detective was specific to the situation at hand. There was no simple way of garnering his attention, let alone convincing him to return with me to any one of my lairs. And since a darkened rooftop was no place to discuss such private details, I had no choice but to use more forceful means of persuasion.

Namely, kidnapping him.

The reconnaissance work that Ricard had performed acted beyond merely determining the best time to confront the Detective. It also allowed for a thorough appraisal of the level of criminal activity in Gotham City, of which was surprisingly low for the metropolitan's reputation. For the majority of the evening, the Detective toured in solitude, only contacting the all-knowing Oracle and meeting with his protégés a handful of times in the course of the night. Ricard had witnessed the apprehension of several criminals per an hour, but none of them seemed to be worthy of the Detective.

Sitting on the terrace of a penthouse we had habited for our stay, I was not surprised to hear footsteps approach me, followed by Ubu's deep voice, "Sire, it is time."

Silently, I checked my pocket watch to see that it was a little before one in the morning, a time when there seemed to be a lull in the Detective's patrols.

I rose and adjusted my garments before leading the way thorough the French doors, Ubu at my heels. Several of my guards stood patiently awaiting my command. With a curt nod, they bowed briefly and then dashed to their positions, stowing any items that had suggested our stay into large duffle bags and crates. Six would accompany me to the site while two would remain to watch over our center. Unfortunately, they were to be the sacrificial lambs in this event for we were not to return after apprehending the Detective.

As the last of the electronic tracking equipment and personal belongings were collected, I left the parlor and maneuvered towards a small corridor. The first door on the left had been my quarters while the door adjacent had been my daughter's.

I rapped on the doorframe and heard her soft reply, "Enter."

Bringing her along on this trip had been quite worrisome. When I had told her of the plan to obtain the Detective, she had all but insisted on accompanying me and I had all but refused her participation. Talia's interest in the situation was understandable but I feared that her involvement would complicate things more so than they already were. The troubled relationship that she shared with the Detective was one that had interfered with my plans numerous times and I had no desire for it to happen again.

After opening the door, I stepped into her room and promptly closed it behind me. Talia was reclined on the bed in her rarely used battle attire; peculiar considering she had no desire to take action in this task. Her long legs were sheathed in black nylon, with her feet guarded by black combat boots while her torso was only covered with a black sleeveless turtleneck. Strapped to her right thigh was a Smith & Wesson pistol, with its ammunition tucked away into a compartment on her belt.

With the elegance of a Greek goddess, she rose and approached me, a slight smile upon her full lips, "Is all ready, Father?"

"Indeed." I offered her my arm, of which she took. Guiding her to the service elevator, I continued, "You will remain in the helicopter until he has been rendered completely unconscious. After he is secured, you may tend to him."

"As you wish, Father," she replied as we stepped into the elevator car. The ride took mere seconds, for we were already on the thirtieth floor. Once on the roof, her hair fluttered wildly as the air moved swiftly around us. She ducked as I wrapped an arm around her shoulders protectively. Our relationship had never been practical, as I found myself using her as a pawn more so than treating her like a daughter. But recently, she and I had grown closer in some respect, letting go of our past in order to look towards the future.

We seated ourselves in the center of the chopper, she residing to my left as Ubu took the seat to my right. The six men made a dash for the opposing three seats; those who did not reach them first opted to sitting on the floor of the helicopter. A medical gurney was centered in the belly of the aircraft, but not a soul dared to rest upon it.

The ride to the rendezvous point took several minutes and I took the opportunity to glance out the open bay door, appraising the slumbering city. As we neared our destination, I could see why the Detective favored it so much and took the time to climb up it. Centrally located in the heart of his city, in addition to being the highest peak in Gotham, it was no wonder why Wayne Tower would be the Bat's roost.

Within fifty yards, the blades were silenced with the cloaking mechanism. The only indication of our presence was the air currents shot out from the rotors. When the pilot began to hover over the tower, I retrieved a pair of digital binoculars and watched the ensuing scene beneath me.

Ricard and the Detective were alternating blows to each other. Both had visible blood on their faces and sneers on their mouths. Closing in, Ubu leapt from his seat and out of the helicopter, landing feet first into the Detective's shoulders. I heard Talia's gasp and felt her hand on my forearm as her love stumbled forward, nearly going over the edge. He rose quickly, as expected, and began to duel both Ricard and Ubu, holding his own. Nevertheless, as much as the Detective was skilled martial artist, there was only so much he could do against two men, one of whom was nearly equal in skill and twice his size.

We watched on as Ricard fell victim to a severe blow to the head that caused him to fall to the ground momentarily. The Detective glanced up quickly and glared at the helicopter, no doubt searching for my face.

Ubu recognized the half-second opportunity, of which he readily took. He wrapped his massive arms around his opponent's neck and began to cut off his airway. The Detective struggled fiercely and nearly slipped out of my bodyguard's grasp. His efforts grew slower and eventually his body became still. Ubu held him tightly to be sure the Detective was not feigning unconsciousness, of which I knew he was quite capable of.

I glanced over to see the pained look on my daughter's face.

She had known this was coming.

I watched as Ubu laid the motionless body down and signaled for the aircraft to approach. Once we had navigated to hover nearly five feet above him, he jumped onto the chopper with the limp body over his shoulder. I watched silently as one of the men who had been sitting on the floor stood and helped Ubu lay the Detective on the gurney and then secured restraints around lifeless wrists and ankles.

In the event he awoke, he would surely show no hesitation in trying to escape.

I felt Talia tense once more beside me at the sight of him. There relationship had been doomed from the beginning. Although there was a strong attraction between them, he would never leave behind his life for her, nor would I allow my daughter to live at his side in Gotham. While looking over the quiet, masked face of my adversary, I corrected myself. He had, once upon a time, taken Talia as his wife and we had joined forces to hunt down the terrorist Qain. In that time, I had seen lightness in him that I had never expected him capable of. I had been honored to have him at my side, as well as at my daughter's, but unfortunately when tragedy had struck, he had returned to his city.

In the six years since, we had become foes once more. My attempts to purge the world of those who were destroying it were foiled by the Detective and his colleagues on numerous occasions. Even Talia had separated herself from me, heading off on her own. But three years ago, it was she who had contacted me, informing me of her need to meet with me, to tell me of a great event that would change our lives.

And it had.

I felt her arm touch mine and I glanced at her, offering a curt nod. As the helicopter ascended and headed towards the airfields outside of Gotham, she unbuckled her belt and took a seat on the gurney beside him. I watched on as she retrieved a handkerchief from her belt and gingerly wiped the blood from his nose before scoring his body for any other signs of harm. Ubu had dealt him quite a beating, but when I gazed at my bodyguard, he was just as worse for the wear.

Shortly after, we landed next to an eight-passenger plane that was taxiing up a private airstrip just outside of Gotham. The men quickly carried all of the bags and crates from one aircraft to the next, leaving the gurney for last. Once everyone was aboard and secured, the plane began to prepare for take off. I had been slightly disappointed that the Detective's protégés had not intervened; then again there hadn't much time to realize he was missing. Combined with how little he contacted them, I began to wonder exactly when they would realize that he was no longer in the city.

As we began our journey across the Atlantic, I waited until we had reached peak altitude before making my way to Talia and her slumbering betrothed.

"Be sure to sedate him heavily, Talia," I said sternly as she carefully applied a damp cloth to his bleeding lip.

She nodded before speaking quietly, "Yes, Father." She sighed before continuing, "Ubu did not need to be so rough with him…"

I heard Ubu's protesting grumble from a few seats back.

"The ends justify the means, my daughter." Keeping her eyes on his unconscious form, she let out another soft sigh. I took the seat beside her, pausing before I spoke, "You know as well as I that he would never voluntarily come. He needed to be… forced."

"But if we told him," Talia spoke, her voice tensing, "Perhaps he would have."

"There was no way of knowing. It is better this way," I stood and straightened my coat, "See to it that the entire suit is removed, as well as the lock picks in his mouth."

Her almond eyes stared up at me for a moment before returning to the Detective's face, "Yes, Father."

I watched on for a moment longer before returning to my seat next to Ubu. He held an ice pack to his swollen jaw and glared in the Detective's direction. "Is there something amiss?"

He shook his head and mumbled, "No, sire."

"Very well. Once his guise is removed, put it in the buoy and then toss it out of the plane."

"Yes, sire."

Not an hour after we had abducted the Detective from his own city, his suit and tracking devices were sailing down towards the Atlantic Ocean's freezing depths. His protégés would search for him relentlessly, but unfortunately their frantic efforts would lead them to a decoy. Nevertheless, by the time they organized a search for him, we would have reached our destination.

And hopefully, the Detective would have woken and agreed to our proposal.

A soft hand caressed my shoulder, "Father, we will be landing soon."

My eyes opened to see Talia smiling with her head tilted slightly. I had not slept in three days, and the exhaustion had caught up with me. I nodded and sat up while she returned to her post beside the Detective. Glancing down the aisle, I was able to see that he was still unconscious but now dressed in dark blue cotton pants. He would be allowed to change once we were settled, if he cooperated.

Ubu had surrendered the ice pack and was proudly sporting a fist-shaped bruise that dominated the left half of his cheek. His right eye had swollen considerably and grown dark as well. His encounters with the Detective over the years always seemed to end with him brandishing a few marks. Before I could comment on his trophies, I felt the plane begin to descend and prepared myself for landing.

Once the plane had halted, I undid the safety belt and stood, directing the unloading of the gurney before our belongings. I led the way out of the craft, with Ubu at my side, followed by the six men managing the Detective, leaving Talia to trail last. I was met by a group of my men, bowed in greeting. Once we had cleared the way, the men quickly began to unload the rest of the plane without a word. As we made our way through the cavernous hangar, various guards went from lounging positions to full attention at the sight of me. I made a mental note to increase the severity of their training sessions.

As we passed through large, lead-lined double doors, I paused and stated, "I would prefer the cell versus your chambers, Talia. When he wakes he will not be very… pleasant."

She hesitated before answering, "As you wish, Father." She then nodded in the direction opposite of the main hall and followed as two men pushed the gurney towards the holding cells.

Each were ten-by ten, with only a small sink, drain, toilet and cot. No mattresses, however, since the Detective had used them to his advantage at one of our earlier encounters. When they were out of sight, I turned on my heel and proceeded to the control room.

Once inside, I took my seat in a large, high-backed chair and went about turning on several monitors. A small radar screen kept track of the Detective's homing signal in the ocean and searched for any object within fifty yards. Upon landing, the buoy that contained the Detective's belongings, it had ejected the guise, tattered and bloodstained. Aside from motion sensors on the floating marker, there was also a small panoramic camera that was to capture the all too hopeful faces of his rescuers.

I watched patiently as the radar's searching arm circled and circled, producing no change in its appraisal. Not ten minutes later, Talia joined me and stood next to my chair, gently resting her slender hand on the back of it. When I glanced over my shoulder at her, I noticed she had changed into a long red dress, one I had not seen before. I fought a smile, realizing that this was a rather important occasion, more so far her than for me. I considered changing myself when one of the larger monitors came to life with activity. My eyes fixed to the screen as I let my lips form into a smile.

As a defense to the darkness, the camera had been outfitted with an infrared lens. After depressing a small button, the screen filled with a slightly hazy view of the ocean and a small aircraft hovering nearby. A raft fell and a magnetic grapple instantly anchored it to the buoy. Not wanting to miss a moment of their search, I pressed another small button and a moment later the speakers gave forth sounds of waves and the hum of a jet engine.

"I don't see anything besides the buoy!" an off-camera voice shouted. Quickly, I recognized it to be that of the Gypsy. The Nightwing. The… son of the Detective.

Another voice replied, "He may be under water!" The Detective's other young protégé, Robin. The third one.

The Gypsy came into view, landing on the raft. He searched the water with a high-powered flashlight, sending beams of light deep into the dark water. His normally collected features were wrought with fear and anxiety, as to be expected. After a moment, he called out the Detective's name feverishly, his voice barely overcoming the roar of the waves. I watched as on as he inserted a re-breather into his mouth before diving into the icy water. He came up for air twice, swimming against the waves briefly before diving down again, searching a new area around the buoy.

After fifteen minutes, the Gypsy surfaced once more, but this time with the sodden cape clasped his hand. His usually determined face was laden with sorrow and fear. His mentor, his hero, his father was "dead."

I watched as he dragged himself onto the raft and stared at the black material in his hands. Ubu had added a nice touch, ripping the fabric sporadically. Perhaps his fate was thought to have been the result of a shark attack, after being dropped in the ocean by enemies unknown. I focused the lens of the camera onto the young man's face but I couldn't tell whether the drops of water that were rolling down his cheeks were droplets from his wet hair or if they were tears. I hoped they had been the latter.

Talia suddenly gasped quietly and ran out of the room. She was a very brave woman, but she still held sympathy for others and their misfortunes. A weakness I did not share.

Despite his discovery, the Gypsy dove back into the water, moving with surprising determination. I continued to watch as he wasted his time and energy exploring the water. After a moment, Dr. Weltman entered the control room, adjusting her glasses. I turned and said, "Good morning, Dr. Weltman."

"Good morning, sire."

Although to any other, the frail woman in the white lab coat would appear to be a normal physician, she was anything but. For years, she had acted as a great tool in my crusade, as well as in restoring my life with the Pit. It had been some time since I had such a qualified individual among my ranks that also shared the same dreams and ambitions as I.

"I've finished his examination. There is a slight concussion, but nothing too serious. Also, severe bruising of the larynx, so speech may be difficult for him. Other than that, nothing more than bruises and scrapes. Although there is a recent injury, a bullet wound to his lower abdomen. It can't be more than a week old."

"Very well, I shall be down shortly."

With a curt nod, she turned and exited into the corridor, her long white coat swaying with each stride. Dr. Weltman had maintained professional courtesy towards my daughter, whereas Talia blatantly would disregard the older woman. However, in the last year, I had been surprised at the change in Talia's attitude towards the good doctor and to others.

As her footfalls grew silent, I returned my gaze to the display monitors to see that the search had grown to a level of frenzy. I noticed that the Gypsy had been joined by the youngest one; their heads bobbing in turn with diving into the water. But as much as I took joy in watching their fruitless efforts, I had more pressing matters to attend to.

After setting the video feed to record, I made my way towards the holding cells. Ubu, who had been standing outside the control room, followed me, matching his stride with mine. As I reached the third cell on the left, I paused and stepped aside, allowing Ubu to open it for me.

The dim lighting of the cell cast an eerie shadow over the Detective's form as he stood in the rear corner. Despite the darkness, his eyes practically glowed, alive with angry. I nodded and Ubu hit a light switch on the outside wall, illuminating the cell. The Detective remained still, his eyes not even blinking in response to the light. He was in a fighter's stance, ready to attack or defend at a moment's notice. His flesh of his throat was severely bruised, as was his lower abdomen. The bullet wound that Dr. Weltman had commented on still bore a row of stitches.

I motioned him forward with my hand, but he remained motionless. "Come now, Detective, let us not make this situation uncivil."

A growl escaped him, his voice was ragged and hoarse, "Where are my belongings?"

"Adrift in the Atlantic Ocean, I'm afraid."

His voice rumbled again, "Where are we?"

"Let us not discuss those details quite yet. I have a proposition…"

He lunged forward suddenly, his fist connecting solidly with my jaw. Before I could retaliate myself, Ubu's massive fist drove past me, colliding into the Detective's temple. I stepped back as Ubu stepped forward, driving his massive fist into the Detective's abdomen with a quickness that had save my life many times. The Detective doubled over in pain momentarily before rising up, striking at Ubu's temple. My bodyguard, who was not recovering from sedation as was the Detective, was well prepared and latched on to the offensive arm. Not a moment later, Ubu shoved his assailant back into the rear of the cell, lifting and pinning him into the cement wall. A moment later, he slammed his shoulder into the Detective's abdomen, a wild look of pain taking over his usually controlled visage. Again and again, Ubu slammed one fist after another into the wound, causing the Detective to scream in agony.

"Enough," I whispered.

Ubu stepped back, letting his adversary fall to the ground. The Detective rose gradually, a hand firmly pressed to his side. He managed to sit, leaning against the wall for support. When he looked up at me, a frail smirk crept over his lips before he spat blood in my direction. I glared at him for a moment and then nodded at Ubu.

I watched on as Ubu assaulted the Detective once more, uneasy as to how little he was fighting back. When I ordered my bodyguard to stand down once more, the Detective was on his back staring up at the ceiling. Blood flowed freely from his lips and onto the cold floor. After taking a step towards him, I descended and stared into his eyes, "Perhaps civility is in order now, Detective."

He tried to spit at me again but was unable to summon the energy.

After standing, I walked to the door, "I shall return in one hour, Detective," I then paused at Ubu's side, "See to it that he changes his mind."

I stepped out of the room and I watched on as a guard locked it. Making my way back to the control room, I was taken aback by a flash of red in the corner of my eye. Talia was running towards the cell, no doubt to try and counteract my orders. I quickly caught up with her, reached out and grasped her arm, twisting it in order to compel her to face me.

Fear in pooling in her eyes, she whispered, "Please, Father, let me talk to him. This is unnecessary. He won't resist if you would just tell him…"

"Talia!" I yelled harshly, "I will not tolerate his defiance. When he is ready to be peaceful, I will be. Until then he must suffer the consequences of his actions."

A tear slipped down her cheek as I tightened my hold on her wrist.

"Do you understand me, daughter. You will not go near that room until I say."

She blinked, letting loose more tears, "… Yes, Father."

After releasing her, I continued on towards the control room. It had always been difficult to be stern with her, even though I had to do so often. She was the mirror image of her mother and every time I looked at her, I could see nothing but the beauty of my beloved, Melisande. When I returned my chair, the screen was only filled with water and the very beginnings of dawn on the horizon. No raft, no plane, no mourning children. I quickly rewound the recording and watched nearly twenty minutes of them searching and then slowly deciding to return to the craft to search the waters from up above. Without any visual, I decided to listen in on their radio conversations with the Oracle.

A soft feminine voice asked, "Not anywhere?"

"No, Batgirl, just a costume. No… body. Maybe he wasn't even out there," the Gypsy replied.

Another female's voice came on, of which I recognized as the elusive Oracle, "I have some bad news. Just retraced his patrols for the night. His signal ended at Wayne Tower, then moved over to the private airstrip south of the city. And then out to the ocean."

"So you're saying someone kidnapped him and dumped him in the water?" the Gypsy asked, fear making his voice quiver.

Her voice was hesitant, "It's what it looks like. I've contacted the JLA. If you stay in the vicinity of that marker, they'll be there shortly to help look."

After exiting the control room for the second time, I returned to assess Ubu's progress. Once the door was unlocked, I opened it to find two forms on the ground, gasping for air. The Detective's stitches had been ripped open and the wound oozed blood. Ubu, who had managed to get to his hands and knees, was also in a poor condition. His already bruised eye had been joined by another and as I looked more closely, I noticed his nose to be broken.

I cleared my throat, "Ubu, what is the progress?"

After making it to his feet, he replied, "Sire, he remains… passive to encouragement."

"Perhaps I may call in another to assist you in heartening him…"

"Wait," his growl interrupted me. The Detective had made it to his feet as well, but he seemed off balance, no doubt the concussion's effect. "Ra's. What is it that you want from me? To surrender?"

"Not in the least. I merely want you to willingly listen to me. I want your undivided attention so that we may discuss certain items of business."

"Items? As in Talia?"

"Partly."

"I won't, Ra's. You know I won't give it up to…"

I interrupted him by asking, "What if it meant being with your son, Detective?"

"My… What are you… My son?"

After I approached him, I continued, "Yes. The one we thought Talia had lost."

"But, she… It can't be…"

"She had given him up to an orphanage shortly after birth. She couldn't bear to have him in her life if she could not also have you. We've kept track of his whereabouts, and three years ago, his adopted parents died in an automobile accident. Talia then took him into her care."

"He's been… It's been six years…" The Detective's mouth closed and he stared at the door behind me.

He continued to sit motionless as I left the room. On my way out, "We'll discuss this further, once you've been settled in. Ubu, take him to the infirmary. And then to Talia and Ibn."

Whether it was the exhaustion from oversea travel or simply the emotional turmoil from the last three days, I had to fight yawning as I made my way to my chambers. And with the coming days no doubt being quite hectic, rest was in order, even if only for a few hours.

After changing and washing up, I made my way to bed. It was as I began to turn down the covers that I heard a soft sound from the adjacent study. Without looking, I smiled and sat upon my bed, "Ibn, you really must stop this."

He stepped into the doorway and smiled, "I came to wake you up, but you weren't asleep. Did you just get back, from your trip?"

I nodded, "Not too long ago."

Ibn smirked again before walking over towards me. He was dressed for the day, khaki pants much too big for his six year old frame. Someday, he would take the strong form of his father…

He hitched them up a bit and then sat next to me, "It was boring here without you and Mom. All I did was read."

"You say that as if it were a negative thing."

The young boy shrugged, "It was okay, but still… boring." He looked up at me and frowned before asking, "What happened to your chin? Is that a bruise?"

"Yes, it is. An accident, I'm afraid."

"It doesn't hurt does it?"

I smiled, "Not at all."

Ibn stood and kissed my sore cheek before he laughed, "Good night."

Often when I traveled, he was the first to seek me out upon my return. Commonly, he would wait outside of my door and then come in to see that I was well. Once he had said he just wanted to know if I had returned with gifts for him, but I knew he just wanted to ease his mind that I was home, safe and well.

But this time, what better gift could I have brought him than his father?

V

Chapter Two: Search Commenced


	2. Search Commenced

Title: Son of the Father: Search Commenced

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

V

All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night.

Margaret Atwood

V

Losing my battle with exhaustion and personal fear, I finally followed Alfred upstairs to the Manor a little after noon.

We had searched all through the night alongside a several members of the Justice League for Bruce or at last evidence as to what might have happened. After quite possibly the longest night of my life, we had turned up nothing more than the remaining parts of his costume but more disturbing had been the presence of blood in the water, as detected by Superman. At one point in the night, just before we called off the search, I recalled J'onn's voice in the corners of my mind, "If there was something to find, Nightwing, we would have surely found it."

As much as I hated to, I was forced to agree with him.

Although most of the Leaguers returned to their daytime duties, Superman, Wonder Woman and J'onn had returned to the Batcave after the search. We sat in the various chairs at a granite conference table, the Bat-tle Table as Tim had nicknamed it. Usually, it was only used whenever Bruce had important information or strategic plans of action to share with us.

But his chair was empty.

Well past sunrise, we reviewed what little clues we had recovered, both from the ocean site and the electronic records of the night's activities. Nothing of his routine patrols stood out, even when I had Oracle review the last week's logs. The site at the buoy was practically useless, the saltwater ruining any chance of collecting fingerprints or any viable evidence. As my mind combined all of the factors, it came about the same result each time.

Bruce was gone.

Of all the times he had danced with death, I felt that I should have been prepared, but I was far from it. The thought of losing him had always seemed alien, perhaps as a result of him overcoming all odds, time and time again. As I sat there, trying to focus on the conversation, I couldn't help but let my mind drift. Deep down, I began to expect him suddenly appear in the Cave's dim lighting, playing it all up as a training exercise. I would fake knowing, Alfred would mutter under his breath and Tim would stare at him in awe, "He got us again…"

"Master Dick?"

I jerked awake in my chair, glancing to left then right before spotting Alfred. After making eye contact, I looked back over the empty chairs, "Where is everyone?"

He paused, "They left some time ago, sir. Mister… Kent said he would return around one this afternoon." I asked him what time it was and he replied, "Nearly noon."

Letting my eyes close, I fought a yawn before standing and making my way to the computer bay.

"Master Dick?"

Looking over my shoulder, I replied, "Yeah?"

"Would it be safe to make the assumption that you are about to endeavor on a relentless computer exploration that will doubt last well into the afternoon, if not evening?"

When I was a mere yard from the computer bay's single chair, his chair, I paused and turned to face Alfred, "Yes. Why?"

He closed the distance between us with long, smooth strides and when he stopped in front of me, I finally saw the pain in his eyes. What was this doing to him?

"Sir, might I suggest refreshing yourself first?"

Before I could tell him that I was fine, I heard Barbara's voice over the speakers, "He's right, Dick. Go eat. Or at least shower, I bet you smell like the catch of the day."

I glanced at her image on the display before looking back to Alfred, "Tag teaming me already, jeesh…"

"One can never intervene too soon, young sir."

Knowing it would only make Alfred upset, I opted against refusing him and followed him up the cold granite steps to the Manor's study. Alfred followed me upstairs to my old bedroom and saw to it that I had fresh towels and clothes. As I showered off dried on saltwater and a long night of anguish, I did a mental replay of theories I had going. First, Bruce was kidnapped; no doubt by any one of the egomaniac super-criminals that plagued the city. Whoever it was, they had to have been trailing him or even tracking his patrol routes in order to intersect him at the right moment: his ritual moment of rest on the roof of Wayne Tower.

Or maybe there was another reason.

Maybe whoever it was had known that Batman was really Bruce Wayne, of which certainly narrowed down the list of suspects. But it upped the level of concern for the situation.

Next, it might be Bruce keeping us on our toes. He had run off before, leaving us behind to take care of his city while he tended to personal matters. In light of his the Batplane and boat being in place, as well as the pricy toys that billionaire Bruce Wayne owned, he had to have secured another mode of transportation. And whether it had been by sea or air, something had happened. Something bad.

And the key element that was haunting every scenario I could think of was his tattered suit, firmly suggesting that Bruce was in a much worse condition…

Fifteen minutes later I was physically refreshed but mentally drained, making my way downstairs on auto-pilot. I entered the breakfast nook where Alfred had set out a bowl of vegetable soup and a plate of Reuben sandwiches. When I saw that he had set the table for two, I asked who else was joining me.

"Master Timothy is downstairs."

I nodded as I sat down, the aroma of the food doing little to lighten my mood. Although Alfred excused himself to tend to the kitchen, I knew he was listening intently to me. I managed to eat a bowl of soup and two sandwiches before my stomach said no more. I carried in the dirty dishes and was taken aback at the sight of Alfred standing at the kitchen sink, his eyes fixated to his left. I looked as well, seeing only a worn leather jacket hanging up next to the service entrance. The slight sound of setting the dishes on the countertop caused him to jump slightly and he quickly glanced over in my direction before busying himself with the dishes.

"What is it Alfred?"

He shook his head slightly, "Master Bruce left his coat out…"

I looked over again and then back at Alfred, "Well, when he gets back, he can take care of it."

Alfred's hands stilled momentarily, as if he needed all of his focus to be directed at thinking when Bruce gets back rather than if Bruce gets back…

I patted his shoulder and said that I would run down and tell Tim to come up and eat. As I made my way back down the granite steps, I had expected to hear the clatter of keys or even the grunts of effort as Tim beat the life out of one of the training dummies. What I hadn't expected to hear was snoring echoing throughout the Cave.

Tim was slouched over the computer console, fast-asleep. Although he had taken off his mask and gloves, the rest of his Robin suit was still in place. Instead of rudely waking him as I usually would have, I simply picked him up and carried him over to the medical bay.

I smiled, remembering my years as Robin and all of the times I had fallen asleep on the way home after a long night of crime fighting. Bruce would carry me upstairs after he changed out of his guise, and then see to it that I was put into pajamas. Sometimes I would stir, catching glimpses of Bruce pulling the blankets up over my body. Or sitting at my desk, going over my completed homework assignments. Sometimes, I was lucky enough to see a slight smirk on his lips. A look of pride.

As I returned to the computer bay, I felt tears brimming at my eyes. How many times had I betrayed him or disregarded his words; yelled and cursed his name? If he was truly gone, I would never be able to seek his forgiveness for my errors against him. He had spent his life making sure that mine would be the best it could be…

And now his life may very well be over.

Sitting in his chair at the computer, I fought back the tears as best as I could, trying to get my thoughts directed towards finding him, not losing him.

"Dick?" Barbara's voice came from the overhead speakers, "Are you okay?"

Looking up to see her image, I sighed and leaned back, "No, I'm not okay."

She offered a slight smile, "Well, Bruce may not take it lightly when he finds out you're sulking in his chair."

I gave a slow nod, still trying to get my thoughts under control.

"J'onn met up with Arthur and went back to the buoy. They both agree that there isn't enough blood in the water for him to have been attacked by something. Also, none of the creatures will, um, confess to doing anything to a human in last twelve hours."

"Always trust a sardine," I sighed.

She smiled briefly before saying, "I'd rather trust a sardine over a shark any day… Either way, there is definitely not enough blood present for the amount of damage done to his suit."

I studied her face, "True. It may have been ripped up while it was off his body. Of which leaves one very naked Batman afoot…" I paused a moment before asking her, "How much time have we spent looking for him?"

"Almost ten hours."

"That's one hell of a head start," I muttered. When she asked me to clarify I continued, "What if it was just his suit that was thrown into the water, a few drops of his blood on it for a final touch. Whoever this is knew we would search for him exhaustively once we found part of the suit."

"Right," she replied, a slight grin on her lips, "Adding the involvement of JLA members to boot."

I paused, my exhausted mind putting the pieces together, "A diversion." I closed my eyes, trying to picture the very last time we had known Bruce's location. He had been standing on the roof of Wayne Tower… Picturing the surrounding buildings, I asked Barbara, "Can you get into Hart Corp's surveillance footage for last night?"

"Can I open a can of soup?"

I would have snickered at her sly comment had it been any other time. Instead, I simply watched her as she pecked away for a moment. When a smile of victory spread across her face, she said, "They have nearly one hundred security cameras, fifteen of which are external. I'll have to find the code grid to see which is which… Ah, here. There's one on the helicopter pad on the roof that should have a view of Wayne Tower…"

Her image was suddenly replaced with the night vision enhanced world of downtown Gotham. Wayne Tower came in clearly. I watched on as she fast forwarded through the afternoon and evening, returning to normal play just before one in the morning when the display showed Batman's form arriving.

"Can you enhance that, zoom in."

She did, the screen moving in closer on Batman just as another figure came into view. Nearly the same size and build as Batman, although garbed as a ninja not as a caped crusader. I watched in anger as the assailant approached him from the rear, using a slight window of surprise as he launched himself forward. They fought vigorously for several minutes, Bruce nearly getting the upper hand until another attacker arrived, this one much larger and stronger. It wasn't long before the larger of the two men won, choke holding Batman until he lost consciousness.

When a helicopter came into view, I asked Barbara, "Can you make the chopper any clearer?"

"What do you think?"

I smiled as the screen morphed into a much nicer shot of the helicopter. Passengers could be seen inside in surprising detail. Six men on one side and a man and a woman on the other. My gut began to burn, "Focus on the left, Babs."

She did.

The screen offered a picture perfect view of Talia sitting beside her father, Ra's Al Guhl.

I pounded my fist into the table top as I rose to my feet, "Damnit! He took him!"

"Who took him?" Superman's voice came from behind me.

I spun around to see him as well as Wonder Woman, their eyes glued to the screen above.

After taking a moment for my brain to realize that I was no longer alone, I said, "He's not in the ocean. Ra's Al Guhl has him held captive."

Wonder Woman paused before asking, "Why would he do that? Why would he go through the trouble of abducting him?"

"Only Ra's knows that," I said softly as my eyes returned to the screen just in time to see Ubu load Batman's limp body into the helicopter. I fell back into the chair as relief washed over me. This revelation changed everything. Ra's' involvement made this something more than just a kidnapping. It very well meant life and death for Bruce and for the rest of us.

The green computerized image of the Oracle appeared on the monitor, "I'll have the rest of the group return so we can discuss some battle plans."

"Thank you." I closed the connection and turned to face Superman and Wonder Woman.

"We will help you find him," Superman announced as he stepped towards me.

I managed to stammer, "I… I…" before my throat closed up. I had admired Superman long before I had ever dreamed of becoming a superhero myself. Becoming Robin and meeting one of my personal heroes had been a dream come true, let alone working alongside him over the years. As a result, it was always hard for me to push him away, unlike the ease that Bruce showed when he wanted nothing to do with the Kryptonian.

Superman stepped forward, setting a hand on my shoulder, "Nightwing… Dick… After all of the times that Batman has saved me or anyone of us… A ton of Kryptonite couldn't keep me from helping bring him back."

Finally, I nodded, "All right. I guess super strength and near invulnerability might come in handy."

Before I could say another word, I spotted Tim's groggy form approaching, "What does it take for a guy to get some sleep around here?" I asked him how much he had overheard and he replied after a quick yawn, "I tuned in right about the time you started looking at the surveillance videos."

Superman appraised the newcomer before asking, "What's the next step?"

"We'll have to narrow down his mode of transportation, I would say by air over being by sea but Ra's is always one for the unexpected," I turned to face the computer, "Computer access all airport logs within a one hundred mile radius of Gotham City for the last twenty-four hours."

As the crays hummed with its assignment, I felt a rush from the slight progress we had made. If we searched for the rest of the day and studied flight charts, satellite photos of the ocean where the buoy was located and then formed some general ideas we might be able to find him with forty-eight hours…

I glanced back at Superman briefly before continuing, "I'm not exactly sure what to tell you until we track down his physical whereabouts."

He paused, then replied, "Of course. Well, we're just a call away, Dick. If you find anything, let us know."

I stood as I nodded, "Thanks," I said before shaking his hand.

After he and a silent Wonder Woman had departed, the crays spat brought up massive lists of records on the monitor. As if aware of the daunting task of research that was ahead, Alfred had brought down fresh coffee and sandwiches, fast fuel as I had dubbed it in my pre-teen years.

As I went about contacting Barbara, I smiled when I heard Alfred's whisper, "Even in peril, you drive him, Master Bruce."

While I looked at flight logs, Barbara scored over shipyard records while at the same time hacking into a number of six different satellite systems that covered the Atlantic Ocean the night before. We totaled over a thousand different aircrafts and sea vessels that crossed the ocean in the time span that Bruce went missing, seventy-five of which left from Gotham. All of the satellites corresponded and showed as the crafts progressed from the East Coast of the United States to various locations in Europe, Africa and beyond. In Bruce's files on Ra's, there was a list of known and possible lairs and base of operations that the Demon used in his quest to cleanse the earth

A case of too much information and not enough time to work through it.

"Where do we even begin," I muttered.

Barbara put her glasses on, "Well, we can immediately knock out anything that leaves Gotham and lands in any public airport overseas. Ra's wouldn't even refuel at an open location."

"Right…" I sighed.

"This stuff is fun, Dick. It's like a puzzle. You just have to put the pieces in the right order and then make something out of it." I looked up at her and arched an eyebrow. "Fine, be that way."

We agreed to reconnect after an hour. When two in the afternoon came around, I hadn't progressed far but Barbara had an impressive collection of results to share. "Well, thirty-six crafts left Gotham Harbor and Airport last night between the hours of one and four in the morning. Ten ships and ten commercial airlines docked and or landed at commercial zones in Europe and Africa, so not Ra's. He would go first class till his dying breath."

"I was doing the airplanes…" I whined.

She shrugged, "Sorry, I'm an overachiever… Anyway, we have six ships that went south and docked in the Carolinas, Florida and the Gulf of Mexico. I highly doubt Ra's would got through all the trouble to kidnap him, get on a shipping boat only to shack up on the Outer Banks."

I nodded in agreement, "Which leaves us ten."

"Six ships, four airplanes."

"Look up the rosters for…"

"Already done Boy Blunder. Four of the boats were private crafts, yachts owned by billionaires who all check out, and the remaining two were cruise liners making their way to the Bahamas. They docked in Gotham Harbor at eight in the evening and set out a little after one."

"Well that cancels 'by sea' out. What about 'by air'?"

"All were privately owned by companies. Diamond Enterprises, TexTech, Triple Technology and IbnCorp."

"I've heard of Diamond Enterprises and TexTech, not the others."

Tim leaned against the tabletop, "Triple Technology is a new service conglomerate, offering high-speed internet, cable and phone services. But I've never heard of IbnCorp."

Barbara added, "I couldn't find anything on it."

I rubbed my tired face, "Made up his own company to cover his tracks... Sneaky little devil."

"You can say that again," Tim smirked.

"Sneaky---."

"Dick," Barbara interrupted.

"Sorry. So, where did IbnCorp's plane land?" I asked.

"IbnCorp refueled at a private airstrip in Portugal and then took off to Egypt before disappearing off the satellite."

Barbara and Tim worked together and played with the letter arrangements, coming up with very few successes that made any sense. Procnbi. Born Pic… All jibberish.

"Ibn…. Wait," Tim spoke up before he commanded, "Computer, access multi-lingual dictionaries."

The computer replied, "Word of reference."

I looked at him as he spoke loudly, "Ibn."

Within seconds, the computer proceeded to read aloud, "Ibn. Arabic, translates as follows: German, sohn; French, fils; Spanish, el hijo, Latin, filius and American English, son. Additional translations…"

"Stop, computer," I spoke quietly.

Barbara paused before asking, "Son? I thought Ra's had disowned Bruce?"

Tim shrugged, "Well, they've certainly had their spats… You know, fights to the death and what have you."

Barbara offered to contact the others and tell them of our progress before taking another look at satellites that covered all of northern Africa. "On one condition, Richard Grayson and Timothy Drake."

"What?" we asked in unison.

"Get some sleep. I highly suspect that you won't be able to get any once things get under way."

I grinned before stating, "Only if you come up and wake me with a kiss."

"In your dreams, frog prince," she winked before closing the connection.

My legs tried to refuse, but I stood anyway and stretched the muscles of my back. The day had barely begun and I was nearly whipped already. And although I would do anything for Barbara, I couldn't rest until a certain cowl-bearing crusader was safely returned to his city.

V

Chapter Three: Bedside Visits


	3. Bedside Visits

Title: Son of the Father: Bedside Visits

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

V

Until you have a son of your own... you will never know the joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son.

Kent Nerburn

V

Despite the bruising and bleeding and the ringing in my ears, I managed to walk on my own, following Ubu to the infirmary. Never had any of my encountered with Ra's left me uninjured, but this had been the first time I had ever been offered medical treatment.

It would have been awkward, had my mind not been preoccupied with the thought that my child was alive and well…

My mind couldn't help but flash back to six years earlier, sitting at Talia's bedside as she cried into her pillow. The tremor in her voice as she told me she had lost the baby before ordering me to leave. So long ago and yet the pain was sharper than ever in my gut.

As our footsteps echoed in the empty corridors, my mind tried to piece together the events over the last few hours. The last thing I physically remembered was facing off with Ra's men on the roof of Wayne Tower, unfortunately succumbing to Ubu's infamous head lock. That had been just before one in the morning, but being knocked out made it difficult to determine just how much time had lapsed. The clock that I presumed would be in the infirmary would no doubt read sometime midday as we had most likely crossed numerous time zones through the night.

"This way, you two."

I looked up to see the whit coated form of an older woman, I doctor recognized from previous encounters with Ra's. Weltman, if my foggy mind served me correctly. We passed through the door into a large, vacant nursing station outfitted with numerous gurneys, monitoring equipment and even a radiography area. Far be it from Ra's to have his injured men suffer in less than state of the art quarters.

After sitting on the gurney furthest away, I watched on as Ubu selected the one closest to the door. I studied him carefully as the doctor retrieved supplies, appraising his injuries as way of ignoring my own. I had obviously broken his nose, but he had deserved it after slamming my gunshot wound repeatedly. Two weeks ago a lucky henchman had fired a shot that had pierced the Kevlar and ripped into my abdominal cavity. Alfred, who had been after me for weeks to wear the most recently reinforced Batsuit, showed very little pity towards my injury.

Ubu snarled at me and I realized he had caught me gawking. Dr. Weltman approached me first, firmly pressing gauze pads over the bleeding sutures on my side before taping them in place. After wiping her hands clean of blood, she took my pulse before dilating my pupils with a small flashlight. I felt as her fingers probed my sore trachea and examined the bruising that had resulted from Ubu's lock hold. She disappeared for a moment before returning with a sterile suture kit. As she went about removing the torn stitches, I found my gaze falling once more on Ubu's form.

It pained me to know that one of my enemies was closer to my son than I was.

Less then fifteen minutes later, my side was sutured and abdomen was wrapped in fresh gauze. Dr. Weltman asked if I required any pain medication and when I shook my head, she sighed, "Of course."

As she tended to Ubu, a familiar and battered face appeared in the room, the man who had initially attacked me at Wayne Tower. He reminded me of another of Ra's guards, Grind, eager to sere as long as he could show off. Ribbing the lesser bodyguard had been one of the only satisfying parts about being under Ra's wrath. Although Ubu and I had danced about our confrontations for years and knew each other to be equals, Grind, as well as this newcomer, were nothing more than mere errand boys.

"The master wishes to know of the injuries."

Dr. Weltman sighed and walked over to him, spoke softly and then ushered him out the door. Before she returned to Ubu's aide, I managed to ask him, "You've seen him?"

He nodded slowly as he locked eyes with me. Always the confrontational approach with him. Always ready for a fight. Perhaps that is why we either tolerated one another or were at each other's throats. "I've watched over him, many times."

I almost smiled.

"Looks like you," a ghost of a smile flashed over his split lip, "Poor child." He seemed ready to say something else but glanced away as Dr. Weltman returned.

Realizing I would be unlikely to get I sighed and laid back on the gurney. My child was bound by blood to the Demon, yes, but would it be necessary to force him to carry on the legacy of a madman? Could he not choose his own path of life, with no need to follow his grandfather, or even worse his father…

I sat up suddenly, "Ra's said his name was Ibn. That's Arabic for son." Ubu nodded as Dr. Weltman taped the splint onto his face. I waited patiently until she had finished and then asked, "What is his name?"

Just as he opened his mouth to answer, Dr. Weltman turned to me, "Please, I need to finish examining him."

I remained silent for a moment, waiting for Ubu's wounds to be treated. As Dr. Weltman walked away to discard her soiled latex gloves, he stared at me before smirking, "Ibn Al Xu'ffasch."

The words slipped into my mental dictionary of the Arabic language and when my hazy mind managed to translate the name, my eyes widened. Son of the Bat. He could never be known as Bruce Wayne's son, even if he had somehow managed to have a tryst with Talia. Had it been intentional, naming him in such a way to compromise my identity? To lock me into their hold?

Ra's knew full well that Bruce Wayne could never explain why his child was named Son of the Bat without explaining that he was Batman.

Damnit, Ra's…

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ubu as he rose unsteadily. He waited until I also made it to my feet before turning towards the door. I followed in quick pursuit, quickly recalling that he was to take me to Talia after I had been seen by the doctor.

Although she was most likely expecting a reunion of sorts, I had my own plans.

Starting with an interrogation.

I had not spoken with her since the fiasco with the protocols. The last I had known she had been shot by one of her father's guards who thought she was compromising the quest of the Demon. I feared what his fate must have been when Ra's had discovered his daughter had been shot by a flunky. No doubt Ra's let his imagination run wild with that one…

While we walked through the massive halls, I tried to find a window in order to get a glimpse of the sky. Unfortunately, there was no sign of the outside world, nor any other living soul. With jumbled thoughts of attacking Ubu from behind, searching out my son and fleeing Ra's and Talia forever fleeting through my mind, I nearly ran into Ubu's still form. He had paused at a set of large, ornate oak doors and stared at me with a mixture of curiosity and disgust before he knocked loudly.

A soft voice answered anxiously, "Enter." He opened the door for me and I distinctly heard him growl as I passed through.

Round two for us would surely be quite the battle.

Once the doors closed behind me, I allowed myself to look about the room. Despite the faint lighting, I was able to depict an extravagant water fountain, marble tiled floors and massive, canopied bed.

Talia's chambers

Her voice broke the near silence of the room, "Beloved."

I turned quickly towards her, barely seeing her form in what appeared to be her dressing room. The white robe contrasted with her bronze skin and as she sauntered towards me, I realized that the robe was translucent and she was bare beneath it. The smile on her lips had the power to enchant any man she dreamed of, and for so long, I had been that man.

Talia raised a hand to touch my face but instead of letting her, I quickly snatched it and twisted her in order to pin her back against my torso.

She never made a sound.

I whispered into her ear, "Why?"

"Why what, my belov---."

"Why did you lie to me?"

She lifted her chin as she arched her back against me, "I never lied to you."

"You just did," I growled and let her go, pushing her away from me.

She walked away from me and sat on the bed, fighting tears as she stared up at me.

I watched her for a minute before I approached her. Her eyes lit up briefly, but when she saw the look on my face, she frowned. I spoke sternly, "You lied to me. For six years you have lied to me. Hell, the entire time I've known you, it's been nothing but lies."

Realizing her plan was failing, Talia moved on to her next method of conversation. I watched as she reclined seductively, allowing the robe to shift and expose her nudity, "I never meant to hurt you… Father, he forbade me from contacting you, I swear, beloved."

Ignoring her actions, I concentrated on her words, "And for once in your life you should have thought for yourself, Talia."

She rose to her feet suddenly, a flicker of anger in her green eyes, "And risk my son's welfare by betraying my father?" she closed the distance between us before continuing, "If I could have told you, I would have."

As I faced away from her, I felt my anger combating with my frustration. As I had learned in the past, I needed to be calm and rational to deal with her. I took a few deep breaths before continuing softly, "Ra's said you gave him up for adoption. Why?"

She took a moment to answer, "At first I thought I could raise him on my own. But once he was born… I could barely look at him…" her voice moved closer as she approached me, "Knowing that he was created from the love we once shared. It pained me to even gaze into his eyes, for it was as if I was looking into yours." I felt her hands place themselves on my shoulders.

"So you abandoned him."

"Don't say that," her fingers flinched on my bare skin, "The family he lived with… they were good people… I… We kept track of him, we didn't abandon him. When we learned that they had been killed, my father recognized that it was fate for him to return to us. To his real family. And now we are all together," her arms slipped forward, circling my neck, "You. Me. And Ibn."

Turning towards her, she kept her arms around me and I had to physically untangle myself as I snapped, "Me? Do you honestly think that I'll just forget what you've done so we can be a happy family? Talia, you've betrayed me on so many levels more than I'm sure I'll ever comprehend---."

She interrupted me, "You speak of the protocols."

My mouth clinched shut as I glared down at her.

"I have always been at my father's side, nothing will ever change that, Beloved, you must understand that. See it as your own loyalty to your father, of which has driven you throughout your entire life. I hated myself for using you as we did, but my father's quest---."

"Your father's quest nearly destroyed everything I had," I interrupted.

She sighed and looked down at herself, "I am truly sorry, beloved." Although her eyes pleaded for forgiveness, I was still unsure of her sincerity.

After a deep breath, I attempted to put aside my anger for the immediate future. I had come to question her of Ibn, not of her past wrongdoings. I had a tendency to forget how strongly she was pulled apart by Ra's and I. Both of us knew she was better of with one of us and that the other was using her for ill gotten gain.

Silently, I watched her as she let the tears flow down her cheeks. Fighting the urge to reach out and brush them off, I asked, "Where is he?"

She wiped her own face with the sleeve of her thin robe, "He is napping, in his room."

"I want to see him."

Talia took a deep breath, managing to regain her composure, but her eyes still avoided my face.

"Talia, look at me."

She lifted her head and made eye contact. Her mascara had run and blotted around her red-rimmed eyes. "Beloved, please forgive me…"

"Where is his room?"

"Bruce…"

My face tightened slightly but I managed to reply in an even tone, "I want to see him."

She nodded, raised her hand as if to touch me and then retreated in order to wrap her useless robe about herself before walking towards the door. In silence, I followed her passed some of the doors that Ubu and I had walked by earlier. We paused at a set of doors similar to Talia's and I watched as she hesitated before reaching for the door knob.

Quietly, she opened the door to a midnight blue room with a single skylight offering bright light to slip onto the floor. Although I had been looking for such a window the entire time I had been conscious, I couldn't bring myself to look at the sun's position that would give me an indication as to my location.

My eyes, trained to do so, adjusted instantly as I glanced around the large room. Rich carpeting and lots of open space to move about. There was a large table with four chairs, perhaps for reading or working and a desk nearby with a laptop, its screen showing an aquarium screensaver. Shelves lined the far wall and were filled with books, glass figurines, ceramic models of animals and frames. The walls themselves were dark blue in color and held very decorations. A few framed paintings of landscapes, stick figures and what appeared to be a dark colored dog. Towards the rear left of the room, I spotted a white door leading to his dressing chambers. Six years old and he had he had complete quarters…

I held my breath as I stepped into the room and found the bed to be to the right. It was a canopy of assorted shades of blue and black. At the foot of the bed, a massive black Great Dane slumbered on his side, his snores breaking the silence. The feet of a small boy rested on the dog's massive head; one sock on and the other unaccounted for.

Ibn lay on his back, on top of his recently made bed. His black hair was disheveled as his head tilted towards us with his lips slightly parted. I looked closer to see him barely smiling. After taking a few steps closer, the dog raised his head, causing Ibn's feet to slip off. When he spotted Talia behind me, he lowered his head on top of the boy's feet.

Talia then sat on the bed and motioned me forward with her hand, "He was up all night waiting for our return. He's sound asleep…"

I joined her and sat on the bed, my weight forcing some give in the mattress. The boy remained motionless and I took the opportunity to study his features. Ubu had been right; his resemblance to me was uncanny, with the faintest hint of the delicate features from his mother. His face was serene and care free as he dreamt.

As I watched him sleep, I flashed back on the countless evenings I had watched Dick sleep as a child, after long hours of crime fighting. Ibn resembled Dick in that fashion of being care-free and knowing someone would always be there to take care of him when he woke up.

My mind then regressed further, recalling my father checking in on me after staying late at the hospital. I remembered pretending to be asleep as he sat on the edge of my bed, brushing back my unruly bangs. He never said a words, no doubt in fear of waking me at such an hour, but he always kissed my brow before leaving.

After what seemed like an eternity, I rose, carefully as not to disturb him and proceeded to leave the room, Talia soon at my side. With long, driven strides, I made it to her chambers first and left her to shut the door behind us. Once in the middle of the room, I paused, an attempt to regain my bearings. Unfortunately, Talia had other plans.

I felt her jump on my back as she wrapped her arms around my neck and attempted to guide me to the bed. Her teeth were sharp on my neck as she ravaged the sensitive flesh there in between kisses. Entirely not in the mood, I flung her over my head and she landed gasping on the bed. Her robe had fallen off in the process and I picked it up and offered it to her. Talia simply reclined back and spread her legs while resting her weight on her palms.

I stepped back and looked at her, "What do you want from me, Talia?"

As she pursed her lips, I caught her gaze heading south on my body, "Just you." When I sighed, she realized her error in judgment and hastily donned the useless garb, "What do you mean?"

Once she was covered I sat on the bed beside her, keeping nearly a foot between us, "When you came with your father to Gotham, what were your intentions?"

"To bring you to your son. To us. To your home."

I shook my head, "This is not my home. No where near it."

"But your family is here."

Without looking at her, I said, "My family is in Gotham."

I heard her breathing quicken slightly before she reached out to touch my shoulder, "You would leave us for your city. Your son and your bride."

Finally, I looked up at her, "Our marriage was terminated six years ago---."

She interrupted my words, "Then Father will marry us again and we can be together as a fam---."

I spoke, "My family is searching the globe right now, looking for me."

"If they made any connection of your disappearance to my father, your allies may feel your fate is sealed," she let her hand fall from my shoulder.

I sat in my own silence and finally began to realize the scenario that I was in. We had obviously left the United States, for Ra's despises traveling on its soil let alone to have a base there. From everyone's tans that I've seen, tropical regions or perhaps even a desert environment would be fitting. But that black dog would be pained in too intense of heat and humidity, so perhaps not the jungle. Unless he doesn't go outside at all…

So many possibilities, my concussed brain echoed.

And of course the base would most likely be hidden underground with a covering structure made from the earth itself. And all structures would be lead-lined in order to prevent any Kryptonian eyes from gazing in. That was if indeed Clark would even look for me. Although our relationship had always been strained, it had been even more so in recent years. I wasn't about to bet on the idea that all wounds mend in time.

Especially red Kryptonite wounds.

In the silence that fell between us, I continued to think out the details in my mind. Any contact I attempted with the outside world, if possible, would most likely be discovered by Ra's. He always saw to it that the odds were in his favor, especially whenever I was involved. Without my suit, I was without a homing signal for anyone to close in on, in addition to my utility belt, communication equipment and protective armor.

"Beloved, what troubles you?" her voice came softly.

"Tired," was all I could seem to manage.

"You should rest for later this evening when you are introduced to one another. He absolutely adores you."

Tentatively, I asked, "What does he know of me?"

"I have showed him pictures of you, out of guise of course. He has wanted to meet you for some time. And now he shall," her voice had lightened simply by talking about her son.

Our son.

Son of the Bat.

Son of the father…

V

Chapter Four: Save Him


	4. Save Him

Title: Son of the Father: Save Him

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

A/N 2: The dossier on Ra's is based on "Battle Plans" written by Devin Grayson seen in Wizard's Special Publication of Batman back in 1998.

V

It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was.

Anne Sexton

V

After leaving Wayne Manor, I decided to stop in at Metropolis before returning to the Watchtower. I convinced myself that I needed the mental break from the latest dilemma, but mostly I knew I just wanted to see Lois.

Corny as it was, seeing her reminded me how grateful I was to have her at my side.

Being a Saturday afternoon, Lois would either be camped out on the couch watching her season set of Desperate Housewives or would be at Dahlia's Day Spa for a three hour long afternoon of pampering that totaled to a three figure bill. I landed on the rear terrace of our apartment pleased to detect the scent of grilled cheese sandwiches as well as the sight of the television flickering in the den.

After changing quickly, I made my way out of the bedroom towards the sound of a year's worth of primetime television available with the press of a button. Despite the cool air pumping in through the air conditioner, Lois was in a tank top and khaki shorts, eyes glued to the screen. Before I could make a sound, she turned and smiled, "Hey, I missed you this morning… Where did you go last night?"

I had been debating how much to tell Lois about Bruce's kidnapping. They were friends, thus requiring me to tell her. But I knew the reporter in her would result in a barrage of questions I had no answers for. Darned if you do, darned if you don't…

Her voice interrupted my thoughts, "Clark? What's wrong?"

"There's an emergency situation in the League," I spoke as I sat beside her on the couch.

She tensed slightly, drawing her legs up to her chest as she shifted to face me, "As in an intergalactic space invader emergency?"

I smirked slightly before locking eyes with her, "No. I would actually prefer a few global dominating alien legions right now."

Lois paused the DVD and took a breath before asking, "What's going on, Clark?"

"Bruce was kidnapped."

"What! I haven't seen anything on the news… Do you know who took him? What do they want?" The tempo of her voice increased with each question, a tell tale sign of her interest as well as her concern.

"No, Lois… I misspoke. Batman was kidnapped. Early this morning in Gotham…"

"But… How? Why? Who would---?"

I interrupted her, although my voice was barely above a whisper, "Ra's al Guhl."

She opened her mouth to reply, but then pursed her lips together. I had told her little about Ra's but it was certainly enough to make the concern in her eyes become even more troubled.

It was a moment before Lois replied. And when she did, her voice was softer than usual, "What does he want with Bruce?"

"We don't know. We just found out that Ra's was behind it… We don't even know where he took him…" I sat back on the couch, not surprised when she reached for my hand. I squeezed her slender fingers before continuing, "We don't even know if he's still alive…"

"Of course he is. After all he's been through, I doubt Bruce would die at the hands of a gazillion year old whack job." The lack of conviction and humor in her voice did little to persuade me.

I filled her in on the few details we knew, from Nightwing's frantic call in the middle of the night to the tattered costume and blood drifting in the Atlantic Ocean. I finished with the surveillance tapes showing Bruce's violent apprehension as well as the images of Ra's and his daughter.

We sat in silence for a good ten minutes before I finally stood, "I have to get back, Oracle should be contacting us with their progress."

She nodded, but otherwise her body remained motionless. Once on my feet, I glanced down at her, certain I had ruined her afternoon of bliss. It was when I began to leave the room that she stood, wrapping her arms around me tightly, "Be careful."

"I will," I replied before kissing her brow.

Before she let me go, she looked up at me, locking eyes as she said, "Save him."

Without another word, she sat back on the couch, staring at the still image on the television as she grabbed a pillow to hug. I paused for a second before continuing towards the bedroom, donning the blue and red for the second time that day. As I began to head out of Metropolis, I heard a bank alarm sound thirty blocks away. Deciding I had time, I flew over just in time to see two armed men garbed in black bust out of the back doors of the First National. Mere seconds later, they were hanging upside down ten stories in the air, my hands securely grasping them by their ankles. Even still, the successful apprehension of the pair of criminals did little to brighten the day.

After the police arrived, I flew straight into the sky, my speed increasing with every second. Once through the atmosphere, I changed course and traveled towards the Watchtower. A quick scan of the station showed there were only two Leaguers inside, as well as a number of reserve members.

Diana was brutalizing the assault dummies in the training room as she vented whatever frustrations plagued her. Nearly the polar opposite, J'onn was in his chambers meditating.

Since my previous encounters with Ra's al Guhl had always been brief and violent, I decided to read through his JLA file in order to get better acquainted. There was a large research room with research, media and computer resources available to any League member, although usually only J'onn or Bruce could be found using it. Taking a seat before the massive monitors, I logged in before opening the file that entailed the life and times of Ra's. I skimmed over the basic physical characteristics, my eyes kept glancing over at the profile image. The hatred in his eyes did something cold to my stomach.

I selected the title "Ra's Al Ghul – HOSTILE" and waited as the file composed itself on the screen. Moving to the dossier, I fought a frown as I recognized Bruce's verbose phraseology, fluidly summarizing his arch-rival onto words. Without reason, I began to read aloud, "Ra's is a fanatical, megalomaniacal, ecological terrorist who is granted near immortality via his triumphant control and exploitation of the Lazarus Pit. Superb hand-to-hand combat and mastered sword-fighting skills are just two of his successful combatant methods, but above all else is the heartless manner in which he uses his daughter, Talia, as not only a lure but as an operative in his quest for global domination."

As I scanned the next sentence, I couldn't help but sigh, "But as much as Ra's abuses his parental control over Talia, he also has made it his goal to find her the perfect mate so that he could have a suitable male heir of supreme bloodlines. I have often been seen as the superlative candidate but have turned him and his daughter down religiously..."

I had been alone in the research area at the Watchtower for nearly an hour when I heard soft footsteps approaching. Smirking, I stared down at the glossy tabletop before acknowledging him, "J'onn."

"Casual reading?"

"I wish," I sighed, taking a moment to glance back at him before looking back at the screen. I had just finished reading the account of the Clench Outbreak that Ra's was responsible for and the coldness in my stomach had been replaced with sheer disgust. I had yet, however, to open the file marked "Babel", uncertain as to how necessary reliving that period of time was.

After closing the file, I looked back to J'onn just as he spoke, "Oracle is calling."

I stood quickly, "Any news?"

"She said there was some progress, not much… but useful nonetheless."

Without another word, J'onn and I made our way to the monitor womb where a whole score of communication equipment kept the Watchtower in contact with the league and the rest of the planet for that matter. I recognized the computerized visage on one of the smaller monitors and was pleased that once I came within range of the cameras, it changed to Barbara's face.

"Oracle?" I asked as I depressed the outgoing transmission button.

She removed her glasses before replying, "Read you loud and clear…"

"What have you found?"

"First of all, I deleted the footage from the surveillance tapes so that some security guard can't sell it to the local station. The last thing we need is Batman on the six o' clock news… Nightwing, Robin and I worked on trying to locate what vessel he was on after Ra's apprehended him."

"And?" I asked, finding it difficult to wait for a response.

"It took a little leg work but we narrowed it down to what plane he was on. As they crossed the Atlantic Ocean they must have thrown out Bruce's suit, weighted it down somehow to be sure that we would find it."

"That makes sense… But what about the blood?"

Barbara paused, "It must have already been on the suit, and then washed off once it was in the water. I wouldn't doubt that there was bloodshed in that struggle they had in apprehending him."

I sighed quietly, "Of course."

J'onn asked, "Where did the plane land?"

"First in Portugal. After refueling, it traveled over North Africa towards Egypt before going off of satellite and radar detection. Most likely as they neared the base, some sort of cloaking device was activated. He must have known we would have figured it out eventually, wanted to cover his tracks." She paused for a moment, a wave of frustration washing over her features, "If we'd figured this out twelve hours earlier, we might have been able to follow the trail left by the jet engines but now…"

I paused then replied, "It may not be entirely out of the question… I could at least try."

The look on her face was full of doubt but she nodded, "I'll send you the coordinates and the flight path."

"Any other leads?" J'onn asked, his deep voice resonating in the monitor womb.

"Batman has a massive file on Ra's in the Cave, lists of previous bases of operations included. There is one main facility that we know of in the governorate of Matruh, approximately thirty miles south of Siwa."

"Is that on the Nile?" I asked.

"No, actually it's closer to the Mediterranean coastline. Siwa is an oasis in the desert... It's no wonder Ra's would set up a base near there. It's practically unpolluted, residents practice organic farming… Near to the ideal of what Ra's wants for the human race and for the planet," she paused before adding, "Batman has blueprints of the facility so if it is where he is being held, we can at least go in prepared."

"If," I sighed, "How many other bases does he have?"

Barbara barely kept herself from frowning, "Nearly two dozen that we know of. Several have been destroyed over the years, and I'm certain there are many more that we'll never know about."

A small display screen showed the coordinates of the jet's path of flight as well as a set of latitude and longitude figures. She explained, "That's where the Matruh base is. It won't be in plain site and it will definitely be lead lined… but while you're over there you might as well have a look around. See if anything is out of the ordinary."

"We'll get down there as soon as possible," I smiled slightly, "Thank you, Barbara."

She shook her head, "No, thank you." And not a second later, the screen was blank.

As I stood, J'onn spoke, "Should we invite Diana on our search?"

I paused before replying, "Someone should stay behind in case something comes up…"

He nodded in agreement before offering, "I will remain behind; continue my attempts to contact him telepathically."

I was momentarily confused as to why he had suddenly volunteered to stay behind, but my answer came with the sound of solid footsteps on smooth granite. I nearly missed Diana as she entered the room.

"Diana," I greeted her.

She offered a curt nod, her Amazonian features flawless even in the fluorescent lighting. But her voice belied her appeasement, "Any word from Oracle?"

I nodded but J'onn responded; recapping the information we had just learned from Barbara.

"What are we waiting for then?" she asked immediately after he had concluded.

"We were actually just heading out. J'onn was going to stay behind to keep up the effort on the telepathic front."

She nodded slightly, "Excellent. Then I'll accompany you to Egypt to help you look for him."

I paused, wanting to correct her that this was just one possible location of many and that the odds of him being there were slim. Instead of adding fuel to the fire, I led the way to the exit chambers. Once in the sealed compartment, I entered the security code and waited for the massive metal doors to unbolt and let us into outer space.

It was a long silent fifteen minutes before we came upon northwestern Egypt. Even once we flew over Egypt; neither of us uttered a word. As dreaded, there was no way of determining the jet's path as too many others had passed since then, mixing the particles chaotically. I stilled myself in the air and Diana followed suit, "What is it?"

I sighed, "I can't differentiate the jet's path. It's been too long… Might as well start looking on the ground," I scanned the area, finding the flourished city of Siwa not ten miles away. Directing my gaze in the opposite direction, I spoke again, "It's less than twenty miles in this---," but before I could finish, Diana had already taken off.

It took a second to catch up with her, and once I did she only flew faster. Once we arrived to roughly where Oracle said the base was, I slowed and a second before she did, coming to halt midair before making my way to the sandy ground. She did the same, landing a good fifty yards away. Although I could have asked her what was wrong, there was no point in risking my well being.

That and I had a hunch as to what the answer was.

She and Bruce had always been entangled in an odd relationship. His instincts had forced him to be wary of her, as well as the others in the League; his concern for those with super powers beings no secret. An odd friendship had developed, not one of a traditional sense, but of two beings doing their best to outdo the other for amusement. And it wasn't long ago when that odd friendship had blossomed into something even stranger.

Courtship.

Brief, unsuccessful but a courtship nonetheless. At first I had trouble believing it, after seeing them quarrel so over the years. Then again, it wasn't as if they were broadcasting it publicly. But the way they glanced at one another and would then quickly look away spoke volumes.

Then, at some point, things went back to normal, par a bit more tension between them. I had always wondered what had been the defining factor that brought their brief tryst to an end. Actually I wondered just how much of a tryst it had actually been. I knew that Bruce's reputation as a playboy was purely for show and I couldn't help but think he hadn't enjoyed the company of another person for his pleasure in years.

Well, he certainly had plenty of company now, I thought as the image of Talia flashed in my mind.

After an hour of fruitless searching, my eyes gazed the flat horizon, spotting a fast approaching sandstorm. Nothing too threatening but certainly not the ideal forecast. When I pointed it out to Diana, she looked at the approaching storm with the same disgust I had seen her show for our opponents.

It was then that I heard it.

A voice, barely there. Before I could focus on it, the quiet sound vanished.

As I moved in the direction I had heard it originate, I heard another voice, this time the low, even tone of J'onn J'onnz, "There is word from Oracle. She wishes to speak with you."

"What is it?" When he told me, I fought a gasp before responding over the telepathic link, "We're on our way back."

"What is it?" Diana asked.

"J'onn said that Oracle wants to speak with me…"

For the second time that day, I watched a pair of blue eyes grow with concern. "What's happened?"

"Ra's has made contact."

V

Chapter Five: Family United


	5. Family United

Title: Son of the Father: Family United

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

A/N 2: I deeply apologize for the delay in posting recently. Honestly, who needs to work two jobs to pay off student loans and to save up for another two years of college…

V

That is the thankless position of the father in the family-the provider for all, and the enemy of all.

J. August Strindberg

V

Although our nightly dinners were hardly meager by any standard, this one was to be more lavish than usual. No doubt father had planned an intimidating six course meal that would surely rival with the feasts of the Romans. Since it was such a special banquet, when Ibn asked for a snack a little before five that evening, I denied him.

"I'm starving," he bemoaned, his hunger being second to the fact that I was requiring him to dress up for the occasion.

"No, people in Sudan are starving, you are just very hungry," I corrected him as I tested the water that was filling the large bath tub.

He smirked ever so slightly before saying, "Well, we're close to Sudan…"

"Ibn…"

"Sorry," he paused before removing his bath robe and stepping into the tub. Within seconds, he frantically began lathering up soap to make massive mountains of bubbles.

He had spent the day with Father, playing chess, reading and enjoying each other's company. Ibn had most likely offered a barrage of questions about our trip to the United States, of which Father most certainly offered vague answers to sate the child's curiosity.

And as much as my Beloved wanted to see our child when he woke, Father had forbidden it.

"So, is this a special dinner?"

Distracted, I looked at Ibn before nodding, "Yes. A celebration of sorts."

"What kind of celebration?" he asked as he lathered soap onto a washcloth.

"A surprise. For you."

His face lit up and I saw the temptation in his eyes begging him to ask what the surprise was. Instead, he asked, "Will there be cheesecake?"

"I'm sure there will be something of your liking for dessert."

Ibn proceeded to cover his face with bubbles and I couldn't help but laugh. As much as he physically resembled his father, he had a much lighter, more amiable spirit despite what he had faced in his brief years. It often forced me to think on how very different Bruce must have been as a child, both before and after his parents had been taken from him so abruptly…

After I had taken him to Ibn earlier in the day, Bruce had seemed uneasy, distracted even. I offered him my quarters to rest in private for the remainder of the day, of which he surprisingly accepted. No doubt he also craved time to himself in order to sort out his latest discovery, as well as to begin making plans of escape. For this reason, Father had restricted all communication sources to the main control room in order to prevent any ill use.

In fact it was in the control center that I found my father shortly before I had asked Ibn to bathe and change for dinner. He had been seated at his chair before a number of monitors and as I had walked in he had just depressed a button on one of the numerous panels.

"Father?"

He had stiffened slightly before rising and facing me, "How is the Detective fairing?"

"He is resting in my chambers," I replied. "Where is Ibn?"

"Resting in his chambers, as well."

I paused before saying, "I'll see to it that he gets ready for dinner."

When I turned to leave I felt his hand on my bare arm. He rarely expressed physical contact with me, and far too often it was done as stern reinforcement to an order he had given. But his fingers gently clasped my elbow, garnering my attention instantly, "Yes, Father?"

"I've contacted… the others."

Although I kept quiet, my eyes widened in surprise.

He let my arm go and returned to his seat, "They were pleased to hear he was alive and somewhat well."

"What else did you tell them?" my voice was quiet.

"Nothing of value. I tried to assure them that the Detective was not being imprisoned but convincing them became futile when they threatened to find me and make me pay for my transgressions…"

"Perhaps if they were able to speak with him…"

I expected him to bark at me at what a foolish idea it was but had been all too surprised when he responded with, "I had considered it actually, to put their minds at ease. Then I realized there was no real benefit of that… and allowing the Detective access to the control room… Perhaps later, once matters have settled." Silence fell between us before he looked over his shoulder at me, "Dinner will be at six."

After seeing myself out, I made my way to Ibn's room to see him on the floor wrestling with his dog. Leaning against the doorframe, I smiled as Caesar took the upper hand, pinning Ibn to the ground as he licked the boy's face from chin to brow.

"It seems you've lost."

Ibn sat up at the sound of my voice, pushing the dog away as he did so, "He cheats. There's no way I would lick his face." As if insulted, the dog grumbled quietly and rolled onto his side.

Once bathed, Ibn donned his bathrobe once more and disappeared into his closet. "Can I pick something out?"

"Something appropriate, yes."

"So no pajamas?" he whined.

"No pajamas," I replied, "And when you're dressed you may head to the dining hall. Grandfather will be expecting you."

"Can Caesar come to dinner?"

I smiled before leaning over and kissing his brow, "Of course he can."

From there I made my way to my own chambers. I had not set foot in them since leaving Bruce earlier that day and was uncertain as to what I would find. Upon entering the room, I was not surprised to see that the lights had been dimmed. After I closed the door behind me, I glanced over to see that the bed was empty and showed no sign of use.

Instead of calling out his name, I moved silently towards the bathroom where a light boldly passed through the silk curtains hanging in the open doorway. When I pulled back the curtains, I noticed Bruce standing before at the marble sink, holding a damp cloth to his side. The bruising about his throat had intensified and a score of other contusions had developed on his arms and chest. Before I could speak, he removed the cloth and rasped, "There aren't any clocks."

"It is nearly half past five. Father is expecting us for dinner at six," I answered his unasked question as I approached him. While he rinsed the cloth in the hot water that filled the sink, I took the opportunity to look over the wound on his side. It was angry and red, surrounded by bruising, both new and old. "I can call upon Dr. Weltman if you would like."

He grunted his decline before wringing out the washcloth and pressing it firmly on his irritated flesh.

Knowing he never spoke unless absolutely necessary, I continued, "There are garments in my dressing room for you." When he didn't reply, I sighed and left the room, "I'll get them for you, Beloved."

"No."

Pausing at the doorway, I asked, "I'm sorry?"

"Don't call me that," his voice was quiet but the underlying sternness was impossible to misread.

"I… I don't understand," I said, making my way closer to him.

He set the cloth on the smooth countertop and faced me, his fists clenched at his sides, "Yes, you do."

The look in his icy eyes deterred me from pushing the subject any further, at least for the time being. I took a deep breath before leaving him momentarily in order to retrieve him a change of clothes. As I selected a pair of dark slacks and a silk dress shirt, I listened to the faint sound of running water. When I returned he was washing his face, his movements guarded and stiff.

"Did you rest well?"

He shook his head and reached for a hand towel to his left. As he patted his face and hands dry, he elaborated, "I didn't even bother. It would be just as difficult to sleep here as it would be in one of your father's detention cells."

"Surely you don't mean that."

He looked away from me for a moment as he returned the towel back on to its respected bar. When he faced me again, something had changed in his eyes. The anger and frustration had succeeded just enough to allow his anxiety to come through. I moved closer, setting the clothes on the smooth countertop. It took all of my will to keep from touching him as I spoke, "I will wait for you in the bedroom."

I had made it to the door before he said, "Talia…" he paused but when I looked back at him his eyes evaded me and he finished, "Nothing."

After a curt nod, I left him to change. Not ten minutes later, he emerged, hair wetted down and combed, face clean shaven, both doing little to hide his exhaustion. I had changed as well, into a long midnight blue sleeveless dress. I caught him looking over me briefly but when I met his eyes he glanced towards the door, "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Anxious?" I asked, doing nothing to hide the amusement in my voice.

The look on his face said he was and his voice did little to convince me otherwise, "No… Lead the way."

We navigated the vast corridors with only our footfalls on the marble floor breaking the silence. Although he was succeeding at keeping his face calm and relaxed, the bunching of his shoulder muscles and the clenching and unclenching of his hands suggested anything but. The sound of muted laughter greeted us as we approached the great Redwood double doors. I looked over just in time to see my Beloved swallow hard before letting out a long breath.

The doors opened from within, as two man servants greeted us with curt bows. I watched as Bruce's eyes scanned the large dining hall, ignoring the priceless tapestries and sculptures as he searched for the face he had waiting to see. Father and Ibn were in the sitting area in the far corner of the room. He watched on as his grandson held a scrap of cheese above Caesar's black nose. Ibn, whose back had been towards us, had no awareness of our arrival, but Father was quick to offer a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"Watch, Grandfather," Ibn said as he set the cheese sliver directly onto the bridge of the dog's nose, "Wait, Caesar." Long laces of drool began to quiver as they dripped from the dog's flews. After a full minute of absolute silence, Ibn grinned and cried out, "Eat!"

The dog tossed his head back, tossing the cheese into the air long enough for him to open his jaws and engulf it.

Father applauded my son's efforts as he stood, "Well done, Ibn."

"Want to see another trick?"

Father shook his head, "Perhaps after dinner… I believe your mother and our guest of honor are waiting," he spoke and turned the boy to face us. Ibn's face lit up for a moment but when his eyes fell on Bruce's form, his smirk was lost in a gaped mouth of surprise. He walked over slowly, his icy blue eyes widening with every step. When he was within a yard of us, he gulped audibly and motioned for Bruce to kneel down.

Without hesitation, despite his injuries and his own befuddled shock, Bruce did so.

Ibn's breathing had hitched slightly and I could tell he was doing his best not to cry.

But I couldn't help let loose my own brimming tears when Ibn asked, "Are you really him?"

"Who?" Bruce's voice was quiet, the nerves he had been containing slightly coming undone.

"My father."

I was surprised at how quickly Bruce replied, "Yes."

And just as shocked to hear Ibn completely change the mood of the situation with a smirk, "She didn't tell me you were a giant."

My father's footsteps grew closer and as if by instinct, Bruce rose to his feet, nearly assuming a fighter's stance. Father noticed immediately and instead of taking offense, he set one hand on Ibn's shoulder before extending the other towards my Beloved, "You are looking much better than last I saw you."

Bruce tentatively reached his own hand forward and they shook briefly. Ibn could barely take his eyes off of Bruce's face, although Bruce's gaze found trouble deciding whether to look back at his child or into the cool eyes of his foe.

Instead of letting any more tension build, I stepped forward and kissed the top of Ibn's head, "Show your father to his seat."

I watched on as Ibn slowly slipped his hand with his father's before walking towards the table. Customarily, three chairs were present, two on one side and them my father's ornate chair at the head. That night, there were four, the additional one at the foot of the table. Ibn spoke quietly, no doubt timid in the presence of his father and said for him to take the new chair. Ibn then flashed a grin at me before taking the chair at the side of the table nearest to Bruce.

My father touched my elbow for the second time that day and guided me to my own position beside Ibn. As Father seated himself he glanced quickly at Ibn before engaging my Beloved, "I must say, I was expecting offensive action by this time."

The shock that had overcome Bruce's face the moment we had entered the dining hall finally ebbed away, replaced with a furrowed brow that showed his irritation. He studied my father's face momentarily before replying, "Expect the unexpected then."

"Cooperation is… entirely unexpected."

I looked over at Ibn who was completely lost in the exchanges between the two men of his life. Thankfully, before their near civil feud could develop, the first course had arrived, a butternut squash soup dressed with sea scallops. My father quickly indulged as did I but father and son had lost their appetites.

I encouraged, "Ibn, your soup."

He whispered, "I don't like scallops. They're like erasers."

"Please."

He reluctantly put his spoon in the soup but proceeded to only stir it quietly.

The awkward silence that had fallen not a minute into the meal endured four additional courses. I had tried to encourage conversation when the roasted beet Carpaccio had been placed before each of us but Bruce's icy eyes looked well beyond his plate. When the vanilla bean infused Panna Cotta was served, Ibn managed to find the effort to engulf the dessert.

Before I could make another attempt at civility, my father spoke, "I trust the meal was not distasteful to you."

"It's difficult to stomach your false pretenses and a large meal at once, Ra's."

"By which do you mean?"

My Beloved glanced at Ibn momentarily, who was finally focusing on food instead of his father.

Father stood and approached Ibn, gently, touching his small shoulder. "Ah, of course. Perhaps later this evening we can discuss my distastefulness… as for now, do enjoy the company of your son… Good night Ibn."

Ibn wiped a smudge of chocolate from his lips before replying, "Good night, Grandfather."

We watched as my father proceeded to leave through the main doors we had entered just two hours earlier. Looking back to Bruce, I could see he was doing his best to hide the tension that had overcome him at the sight of his most notorious enemy sharing a moment with his own son.

An occurrence I would hope he would soon adjust to.

"Ibn, show your father your chambers, would you?"

He nodded, excitement causing him to bounce slightly in his chair.

Once more, Ibn locked hands with Bruce, this time leading him to the hall. When Bruce looked back to me, I nodded, "I will be in a while."

After I was certain they were gone, I pursued my father, finding him once more in the control room. He had brought up the security video feed from Ibn's room, where my Beloved was following his son in a brief and animated tour. Whether my father had intended to or not, he had adjusted the audio volume just as I had entered, bringing their voices to life.

"This is my chess table, Grandfather and I play everyday. Do you like chess?"

"I do."

"Do you want to play?"

"Of course."

As they sat across from one another, Ibn set up the pieces, "You can be black, I'll be white. Unless you want to be white?"

"Black is fine."

As the game commenced, Ibn fought to concentrate on his plays while asking his father questions. "Where do you live in America?"

"On the East Coast, near Gotham City."

"I want to go to America; can I come see your house?"

Bruce was slow to respond, "We'll see."

"Do you work a lot?"

"I do, I'm pretty busy."

"Mother said you work all the time. But I still want to be a detective when I grow up."

Bruce then paused, "Why a detective?"

"Because you're a detective."

"I'm… Ibn, no, I'm not."

Ibn paused before setting his rook back down, "But, Grandfather… He always calls you the Detective. He wouldn't lie to me."

"Neither would I." Before any more confusion could arise, Bruce changed the subject to the tricks Ibn had taught Caesar.

Father turned the volume down, "It appears they are becoming adjusted to one another."

I thought momentarily that was a cold way of observing father and son meeting each other for the first time, but kept it to myself. I replied, "That they are."

"Once they have bonded it will be easier to convince the Detective to stay. Be sure to show him how much he is needed. How much he is needed by all of us."

"Father…"

"Yes, daughter?" he asked, still without having turned to face me.

"What if the others come? To try and take him from us?"

He was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. Then he peered over his shoulder, "This family has been united after all this time. I will see to it that it stays united."

V

Chapter 6: Battle Plans


	6. Battle Plans

Title: Son of the Father: Battle Plans

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

A/N 2: References made to the Batman: Bride of the Demon and Tower of Babel.

V

Father, I cannot tell a lie. I did it with my little hatchet.

George Washington

V

I had been upstairs when Ra's Al Guhl had managed to hack onto the private communication link in the Batcave.

It had been less than twenty minutes since I left Dick talking with Barbara about contacting the others with their progress. After throwing ideas back and forth for the better part of the day, we had all come to a silent stalemate as to how to proceed. As the tension grew to an unbearable level, I volunteered to forage for food up in the Manor.

The great house was silent, eerily so. I found myself trying to quiet my footfalls on the mahogany floors as I made my way to the kitchen. Aside from seeking a way to end the rumbling in my abdomen, I had also wanted a reason to check in on Alfred. Despite the perils Bruce had faced over the years, Alfred had always seemed to take things in stride.

But something was different.

The faith that Alfred always had in Bruce's safe return was missing.

I found him sitting in the breakfast nook staring at a full cup of tea. The lack of steam and the look on his face said that he hadn't touched in the hour or so that he had been sitting there. I waited for him to look up at me and when he didn't I cleared my throat.

"Oh… Master Tim… I'm afraid I am a bit out of sorts today."

"Understandably."

He glanced up at the silver framed wall clock, "Oh my... I would imagine you two must be famished."

I looked as well to see it was nearly five. "You know us all too well, Alfred."

He offered a brief smile that seemed to take immense effort as he rose, taking his neglected tea with him into the kitchen. I followed three strides behind him and proceeded to lean against the far counter in order to stay out of his way. He retrieved a loaf of wheat bread from the pantry before rummaging the refrigerator for lettuce, tomatoes and a turkey breast. When I opened my mouth to offer assistance he spoke first, "How are things coming along?"

"Good. We narrowed down to which base he is most likely took Bruce. Superman and Wonder Woman are there now. Hopefully, if we're right, we'll be able to make our move."

"An eleven hour flight…" Alfred said quietly as he began to slice bacon.

"Conventionally, yes. But with those new boosters on the jet… We'll have him back for lunch tomorrow."

Alfred nodded, but said nothing as he set the bacon strips in the skillet prior to filling the eight slot toaster. He was quiet for another minute before saying, "Have you discovered a motive?"

I reached over to a small porcelain bowl of blueberries and popped a few in my mouth, "Not yet. Ra's has yet to make contact, either has Bruce. Until then, anything is possible."

I watched on quietly as Alfred prepared two hefty turkey club sandwiches. The twenty minutes I had spent with him had seemed like an eternity as most of it had been silent. On my way back down to the Cave, I couldn't help but think of when Nightwing and I had returned home after searching the salty waters that had been the site of Bruce's homing signal. How despite the fact that Alfred's face had remained stoic, that his eyes had glassed over with emotion.

A fear that he had lost his son…

Descending the stone steps, I tried to shake off my worries and to focus on being the hero of our late-afternoon strife by providing nourishment.

Instead, I was rattled by arriving to Dick swearing and slamming his fists on the keyboard.

I approached quickly, careful not to drop Alfred's meal. After I set the tray on the countertop, I beckoned, "What happened?"

"Apparently, we're on Ra's Al Guhl's speed dial."

"Whuh?" I asked through a mouthful of turkey and bacon.

During the time that I had been in the Manor watching Alfred prepare food in the kitchen, Ra's Al Guhl's wrinkly, sinister face had randomly appeared on the big screen of the computer. At first Dick had thought he had pressed a button that had brought up the file on Ra's but when the image had said, "Greetings, Gypsy" he had realized it was a live feed. As Barbara frantically tried to trace the originating point of the message, Dick had tried to keep Ra's talking, to get information as well as to help the trace.

Dick stood and began to pace in circles, freeing up the main chair at the computer. I quickly sat down and went to work on locating the recent files log, shocked that the video message had been saved automatically. Opening it, I prepared to have the whole system crash but was again surprised when the video played again, including the responses Dick and Barbara had made, captured by the system's microphone.

"Greetings, Gypsy."

"Babs, do you see this?"

"What did you do, Dick?"

Then Ra's again, "I am contacting you in order to provide assurance that the Detective is in no harm."

Dick, "Oh my God…"

"He suffered minimal injuries during his apprehension in Gotham but he has since seen a medical doctor."

"You sonofabitch… If you so much as lay one hand on him I swear to---."

"I have no intentions of quarrelling with you, nor do I plan to listen to your threats, Gypsy. To prove his well-being and dissimilate any qualms you may have of his welfare, I am---."

"You put him on the screen and then I'll believe you."

"I'm afraid he's resting at the moment."

"Resting, right, in a detention cell, concussed."

"Hardly the case. In fact he is in Talia's chambers."

Dick had paused then, "What do you want with him?"

"His undivided attention and willing cooperation."

"In what, your next plan for global domination?"

"To think after all that he has taught you… If he was truly imprisoned, he would have escaped by now, if at the very least contacted you. He has not made a single effort to leave the grounds, nor to utilize the communication system."

"What are you getting at?"

"Who is to say he is not here on his will alone?"

"I don't know, Ra's... maybe the fact that two of your henchmen beat him half to death and then threw him into a helicopter? That just screams voluntary action to me."

"You always had a sharp tongue, Gypsy… I will be sure to have him contact you, perhaps then you'll be able to know the importance of my actions."

Cut to commercial.

Since then, we had collectively watched the video eighteen times, each time analyzing it differently, either by ourselves or with the computer's software. I had memorized nearly every detail after the eighth time but couldn't help but to keep looking for a hidden clue in the brief message.

Dick and I sat at the work table in the laboratory section of the Cave, waiting for Superman and Wonder Woman's arrival. I ate most of my sandwich but dick had taken no more than three bites before discarding it. Passing the tie until the superheroes return had been on the verge of agony as they had been off in the Middle East looking into one of the possible locations of the lair Ra's had taken Batman to. Oracle had contacted J'onn in the Watchtower and had asked him to have them return due to the latest news.

After fifteen minutes of silence, I finally took advantage of our privacy to ask, "What if Ra's isn't lying?"

Dick rubbed the bridge of his nose as he replied, "Then we're really in trouble."

"How's that?"

"Ra's already has the upper hand, Tim. And if he knows something and has some way of keeping Bruce under his control---."

"I doubt that anything Ra's could dish out would keep Batman from being… Batman," Superman's voice suddenly echoed in the Cave. We both looked up to see him and Wonder Woman approaching, hovering just above the cold granite floor. No wonder we hadn't heard them…

As Dick went about summarizing the failure of our trace, I brought the video back up so that they could see for themselves. They watched on silently as the two minute clip played. Instead of asking to see it again, Superman sighed heavily before asking, "What could he possibly have that would interest Batman?"

"I honestly don't know," Dick replied.

I cleared my throat before speaking, "I looked back through the activity logs Batman has on his encounters with Ra's. There's only one account that had any sign of collaboration between them and that was over six years ago."

"What happened?" Superman asked.

As I went about pulling up the file, I continued, "Batman was seeking out a terrorist named Qayin… during an encounter in Gotham he had been shot and injured, ended up blacking out in the streets. He was brought back to the Cave by Al Guhl's daughter who just so happened to be in Gotham following him that night."

"A little too coincidental for my taste," Nightwing added.

"Same for Batman. He automatically suspected Ra's was working alongside Qayin and had Talia take him to her father's base of operations. But when he made his accusations, he learned that Ra's was also seeking Qayin but for his own personal reasons."

"Which were?" Wonder Woman asked, the first time her voice had sounded in the Cave.

"Qayin had killed Talia's mother… Ra's' wife."

Superman stepped forward, no doubt speed reading through the text on the massive screen, "He doesn't seem like the settling down type."

I nodded, "Batman didn't go into extreme detail in his logs but he was certain Ra's was strictly acting on emotion and not greed, which was the first sign of true humanity he had seen from Ra's. That and Ra's was the one to suggest their combined efforts in bringing down Qayin."

"What happened?" Superman asked, his piercing blue eyes gazing directly at me.

"The file itself is over a hundred and fifty pages long, of which nearly a third is under restricted access. But it does conclude that there was a pretty big showdown ending with Ra's killing Qayin. But it says nothing about any lasting partnership, or any debts that Batman owes Ra's."

"Makes you wonder what's in that restricted part," Dick suggested.

Superman asked, "Can Oracle break into it?"

I shook my head, "We've both tried, numerous times. But it's clear he intended no one but himself to ever read that part of the file."

"More than six years ago…" Superman said.

"Before Tim's time," Dick tried to muse.

I nodded, "That being the case, I asked Alfred about it this morning… He said Bruce had left voluntarily, been missing for nearly two months without a single word and had returned absolutely miserable, lost in what he could only describe as a rage-filled depression."

"Also known as typical behavior for Bruce after a traumatic event," Dick added on.

The Cave was silent for several minutes before Dick asked, "Play it again."

I nodded and brought up the video. We watched in continued silence from start to finish.

"He mentioned Talia's chambers," Wonder Woman said suddenly. I couldn't tell if it was because she was uncertain of its importance or if it was hitting a nerve.

To break the brief silence, I replied, "Probably a ploy. If anything, he'd have Bruce under lock and key not to mention a few dozen armed guards."

The Romeo and Juliet-esque romance that was Bruce and Talia's relationship had been doomed from the start. Just before I had finished my training to become Robin, I had experienced first hand the power of Ra's Al Guhl when he had infiltrated the Bat-Cave and taken Bruce captive.

He was returned mere days later, intact, dropped off by Talia we later learned. Alfred and I had been waiting in the Cave and he had suddenly appeared, grinning, asking if it Alfred was up to making dinner. I remember asking him if everything was okay and he had smiled back, "Couldn't be better."

Not exactly the appropriate response for having just escaped one of his greatest foes…

I had never found the courage to ask him what had happened, and after reading the restricted file, I found myself cursing my lack of efforts. If I had acted sooner, perhaps I would have been able to have and idea as to what was hidden in those pages.

And then perhaps we could be sure to get Bruce back, smiling or not.

"What did you find Matruh?" I asked suddenly.

Superman planted his feet firmly on the stone floor, "Not much I'm afraid. Just as you called us with word about Ra's, I was almost certain I heard a voice, it was brief but it was certainly close by. And with no other sign of human life within twenty miles, it's safe to say that his base is inhabited, but by Batman I can't say."

Oracle's voice suddenly echoed in the Cave as her illuminated figure spread over the main screen, "J'onn has yet to make any telepathic connection to Bruce. We agree that there's some sort of Psy-block in use."

"We'll have to go back… but with a bit more firepower," Superman suggested.

"And it wouldn't hurt to have a battle plan either," Wonder Woman added.

"One Bat-tle plan coming up," I whispered while recalling the floor plans on the computer. They weren't exact, but a basic layout based on all of the other bases Ra's kept around the world.

With the information on the screen we went about decided how and when we would go about entering. With Superman and Wonder Woman already present, we felt it would also be wise to call upon J'onn as it never hurt to have a super-powered, shape-shifting telepathic Martian.

"If I may," Superman interrupted, "Our last encounter with Ra's was… not ideal. The protocols enabled him to have a massive advantage… And without Bruce at our side he is even further ahead than before."

"Agreed," Dick nodded, "But I doubt he would use the same attack methods. He's not one for being predictable."

Oracle's voice interrupted, "I have another transmission coming through from Ra's!"

"Bring it up, Babs," Dick snapped, the muscles of his shoulders bunching angrily.

The screen filled suddenly not with the cool gaze of Ra's Al Guhl as it had over an hour earlier, but instead Bruce's bruised face appeared.

"Bruce!" Dick cried out.

"Dick… Tim…" His voice was hoarse, tired. I could only imagine what he had suffered in his brief period of captivity. He paused momentarily before adding, "Everything's fine."

"How can you say that? Bruce you look like you've been---," Dick called out.

"I know… It's complicated but… I don't want you to do anything rash."

Dick muttered, "He has to be doped… or hypnotized."

"I'm neither, I promise you."

"Do you know anything about your location?" I asked; my voice weak and strange.

He shook his head, "I've only been in the main quarters with exception to the first few hours I was conscious. This is the first time I've been out of the living quarters since then… some sort of control or security room… But I'd have to say somewhere in the Middle East, given the time change…"

"Where were you earlier?" Dick asked.

"A detention cell… and then the medical ward."

Dick cursed quietly, "Are you all right?"

Bruce nodded as he touched an angry bruise above his right eye, "For the most part."

I wanted to focus beyond Bruce's blue, fatigued eyes in order to get an idea of the layout of the room behind him. It took a great effort, which was only deterred while Dick managed to keep the conversation going, "Bruce, what does Ra's want?"

Bruce paused looked away and then said, "I don't know, not for certain anyway… I need you to trust me. And right now, I need you to stay in Gotham… I need you---."

"Bruce, I trust you with my life but right now… I can't trust your judgment; I can't stay here while God knows what happens to you---."

A flash of anger crossed Bruce's face and stopped Dick mid-sentence.

Dick continued, "I can't sit idly by while Ra's, of all people, has you held prisoner."

Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly and I expected his voice to be the deep, gravelly growl we had all come to know. Instead, his voice was quiet, almost apprehensive, "I am not a prisoner."

The Cave went eerily silent, short of a few distant, echoing shrieks.

For the first time, Superman spoke up, "Are you on his side again?"

The anger in Bruce's eyes was tainted with a fraction of confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"Why else would you be there, if you're not being held captive? Does this have to do with what happened with Qayin?"

"Absolutely not," Bruce replied, never faltering after learning we had been reading up on his past activities. His eyes refocused to the center of the screen, as if he knew he was staring directly at Dick, "Richard. I need to have your word…"

"Just as I need yours."

I held my breath, knowing all too well that Dick's smart mouth had once more gotten him in over his head. But instead of responding in the roar I had expected, Bruce sighed before promising that nothing was going on and that everything was all right.

Hard to believe knowing that the Demon's Head was probably holding him at gunpoint at that very moment.

When Dick didn't respond, Bruce shook his head, "Fine. I can't tell you everything, not now, but I can say this much… I was---."

A loud door slam was suddenly followed by muted voice that belonged to someone off screen, "Enough, Detective." It wasn't Ra's, although similarly accented. But much deeper. Ubu.

Bruce stood, the camera showing his midsection. He was wearing a black long sleeved tunic, but looking closely, I spotted the padding of fresh bandages across his abdomen, "I was under the impression that---."

"You are required elsewhere, Detective."

Dick called out, "Bruce? What's going on?"

Before he could respond, we heard Bruce, "I'm not going anywhere until I get to---."

The screen went black.

"Damnit," Dick growled, punching the countertop just as he had after the last video connection had ended. Before any of us could collect ourselves after the transmission closed, Oracle appeared on screen, her face beaming, "Good news."

"What do you mean? He didn't get to tell us what was going on!" Dick yelled.

She nodded, "I know… but he did talk long enough for the trace to complete itself. Looks like you're Egypt bound after all."

V

Chapter 7: Safety First


	7. Safety First

Title: Son of the Father: Safety First

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

V

It is a wise father that knows his own child.

William Shakespeare

V

At some point, I had fallen asleep while Father had read to me.

Despite telling me that she was going to check in on us, Mother never entered my room after dinner. Alone with my father, I tried not to ask too many questions but I couldn't help it. Through three games of chess, I was surprised to see him willingly answer each and every one of my inquiries without hesitation. Mother had once said that he was a very private person but I began to think otherwise.

I had just moved my knight to place his king in check when he finally began to ask his own questions.

At first they were about my favorites, flavors of ice cream, books, things I liked to draw. I was more than willing to answer him, being sure not to babble too much so that we could move on to the next. He asked about my adopted parents and I felt bad because I didn't know enough about them to answer his questions.

"Do you remember their names?"

I shrugged as I sat on the floor, leaning my back against Caesar's side. We had left the chess table and moved to a section of my chambers that I often sat for hours letting my imagination run wild. Grandfather said an imagination was something that needed to be developed overtime. So just as I had to read and solve math equations for homework, he encouraged me to have time alone, letting my creativity get some exercise.

I had shrugged in response, "No. I remember that my mother always smelled like cookies. She was a baker."

"And your father?"

After a moment of trying to bring up anything remotely related to my former guardian, I had sighed, "I don't know. I don't really remember anything about him… Can I ask another question?"

My father had been sitting opposite me, staring into the crackling fire in the stone fireplace before us. He looked over at me and offered a smile of comfort, "Of course."

"Well… Mother said your parents died when you were little… Like mine did… Do you... Do you remember them?"

The smile on his face had vanished and I suddenly felt bad for making him sad. Before I could try and change the subject, he replied, "I was two years older than you when I lost my parents so I do have memories of them. Many of them."

"Good ones?"

"Great ones. My mother… She would always wake me in the morning by kissing my forehead."

His smile had returned as he began recollecting his parents. I thought for a moment that it was sad I would never know them.

It wasn't long before my lids grew heavy. He must have noticed as he suggested that it was probably time for bed. I agreed and got to my feet, Caesar matching my every move. My father had risen as well and commented that Caesar seemed very protective of me.

"He's my best friend," I had replied, "Well, Caesar and now you."

After I had changed for bed, I found my father standing beside my desk looking over the various drawings and assignments. Mother said I was very smart for my age and I had suddenly wondered if he was proud of me for such accomplishments. I approached my desk as well, retrieving a hardcover book from under my math assignments, "Will you stay and read with me?"

Despite my efforts to stay awake in order to spend more time with him, I had to fight to keep my eyelids open, especially as he read. His voice was deep and smooth and I kept thinking that someday I would have the same voice, as I already had his eyes, hair and nose.

Ever since I had returned to live with my mother, she had promised that one day I would be able to meet him. And then, once our family was whole, we would live together forever. I had once asked if we would move to America but she did not know. Father had a great deal of responsibilities there and she was uncertain if he would be willing to leave them behind.

At first, anyway.

The entire evening, I had tried my best not to think on how he said he wasn't a detective. Either he was lying, or my grandfather was. Either way, it confused me. Why would either lie about my father's profession? Even as I was drifting off to sleep, my thoughts kept going back to his words, denying that he was a detective, something I had dreamed of also one day becoming.

It was perhaps the very reason why I slept fitfully, waking every few hours to find my blankets twisted about my legs and my brow sweaty. At one point, I had nearly jumped out of bed in order to sneak down the hall to my mother's quarters. But with Caesar slumbering on my legs, I gave up on the thought and did my best to fall back asleep.

The next time my eyes opened, I looked up to see my mother's face smiling down at me.

"Good morning, Ibn."

"Morning," I managed before yawning. I sat up quickly and glanced about my room, "Where's father?"

"Resting."

"Did he not sleep?"

She looked away briefly before saying, "He rarely sleeps."

I thought of another figure in my life that seemed to always be awake and asked, "Like Grandfather?"

"I suppose… Well, you best get ready, it's nearly time for breakfast."

After pushing my blankets away, Mother stood and let out a low whistle. Caesar quickly rose to his feet before stepping off of my bed, allowing me to do the same. I sometimes wondered if he was taught to lie on my lower legs in order to keep me in bed at night. All I knew is that my feet were never cold.

As Mother approached my wardrobe, I shuffled into the bathroom and proceeded to wash up and get ready for the day. Generally, I spent every day reading, writing, and studying lessons with my grandfather in addition to playing with Caesar and occasionally with Ubu. Mother had once explained that I needed to learn to defend myself because of my status in the world. I had once asked if I was a prince and she had replied, "Almost."

I loved sparring with Ubu, even though my tiny fists and feet were no match for his massive form. On more than one occasion, he had managed to snatch me by the ankle and proceeded to hold me upside down. Although he rarely did so, Ubu couldn't help but smile with me swaying back in forth in front of him giggling.

Mother even attended such matches, schooling me in how to respond to the various attacks Ubu presented. After defeating me several times in a row, I was forced to find an alternative approach, and could usually catch him off guard at least once a month. I wanted to improve myself because Mother often reminded me that my father was a master of martial arts in addition to escape artistry and detective reasoning.

Someday, I would be as well.

After entering my bedroom, I donned the clothing that Mother had set out for me: dark pants and thundercloud gray sweater. As I dressed, I asked, "Will I have to do my studies today?"

"Some. Not all. Perhaps you can complete them with your father?"

"Really?" I asked, popping my head through the sweater.

"We shall see. But first, we must eat."

I followed her to the dining hall, taking her hand into mine. I loved being near her, whether we were eating, reading or walking. With little memory of my adopted mother, it seemed to be all right to devote all of my love to my real mother. And father.

Upon entering the room, I had expected to see my grandfather and father already waiting for us but was disappointed to see neither. Before I could ask a question, Mother gently let go of my hand and touched my shoulder, "It will just be us this morning."

Grandfather often chose to dine alone, especially when he was upset or deep in thought. I once went an entire month without seeing him. "But what about Father? Should we wake him?"

She motioned to my seat and I took it before she answered, "After we eat, we shall take him something to eat."

"Breakfast in bed," I replied with a smirk.

I ate as quickly as possible, wanting nothing more but to see my father's face when I brought him a tray of fresh fruit, warm hunayua and ful madames. After cleaning two plates of food and emptying my glass of tea, I waited impatiently as my mother ate slower than I had ever seen anyone eat.

She asked if I desired anything more and when I shook my head, she smiled, "Very well. Why don't you prepare something for your father."

Since my father was much larger than I, it seemed logical to fill an entire plate of the ful madames, certain to keep the presentation of the fava beans, garlic and parsley from shifting into the arrangement of sliced baladi bread. I then carefully transported sliced figs, dates, apricots and a handful of chopped pie nuts and sesame seeds into a small dish of yogurt. After adding a dash of honey, I mixed the treat thoroughly before scanning the table for something else to bring him.

Mother, finally done eating, looked over my handy work, "A genuine feast, Ibn."

"Think he will want more?"

As she scanned the very full plates of food, she leaned forward and kissed the top of my head, "I don't think he will eat for the rest of the day after all of this."

After trimming down any excess food to make the meal less threatening, she called for a servant from the kitchen to help us carry it to her chambers. I was about to interject that I wanted to carry his meal but my mother would never have agreed. Instead, I settled on carrying his tea.

I did my best to silence my steps in order to wake father. I knew sometimes grandfather would very irate if I woke him, especially right after he had just fallen asleep. But we were surprised to see that he was not only awake, but also gone completely.

A look of fear washed over my mother's face but before I could have asked where he was, she instructed me to sit on the bed with the food and wait. When I made an attempt to question her, her brow rose in such a way that I decided sitting with my father's breakfast wasn't that bad.

She spoke to the servant quietly before dismissing her. Mother was just about to leave as well when Ubu's form filled the doorway into the corridor, "My lady, your father requests your presence in the control room." The control room was one of my favorite places. Often, grandfather used the telescope to provide views of the starry skies above. I loved learning about constellations and hoping to catch a glimpse of a falling star.

I carefully slipped off of the edge of the bed and approached my mother as she replied, "Whatever for?"

Ubu rarely said anything that he wasn't instructed to. If he hadn't been given a pre-approved response, than he simply did not respond.

My mother's glare locked on my grandfather's bodyguard, "Where is my beloved?"

"My lady, please."

After ordering Ubu to watch over me, my mother turned to me, barely hiding her concern with her forced smile, "I want you to wait here for your father, Ibn. Ubu will watch over you."

"Where is Father?"

"He will be here to eat soon. Just stay here."

And with that, she turned and briskly walked into the hallway, closing the door behind her. I took my seat on my mother's bed once more and stared at the full plates of food. Ubu had yet to move once since he had entered the room and when I looked up at his face, I noticed he was staring straight ahead.

Reclining onto the bed, I tried to figure out what was happening. So Father wasn't in his chambers? He could have easily gone to tour the compound, no doubt needing time to himself. Mother said he had lived alone with his manservant; of course having a new family would be a lot to take in at once. Or maybe he was upset about something else. He had never been close to my grandfather. Maybe he was already preparing to leave, to take my mother and I back to America with him.

Or maybe a new case was breaking in his golden city, something that only the world's greatest detective could handle.

But he wasn't a detective…

"Ubu?" I suddenly sat up.

"Yes, sire?"

"Is my father a detective?"

Ubu paused before replying, "Yes, sire."

"He said he wasn't."

Another pause. No doubt wanting to avoid having to respond on his own. "He has many responsibilities. Many professions, sire."

"So… he's not always a detective?"

His answer came quickly, "Correct, sire."

Somewhat content with his answer, I found my eyes dropping to my father's breakfast, which was quickly growing cold. Just as I was about to ask Ubu where he thought my father had gone, I heard my grandfather's bodyguard grunt. Caesar, who had been lying near the edge of the bed lifted his massive head and growled lowly.

In the fraction of a second that it took me to look up at Ubu, he had slumped forwards, landing face first on the cold, stone floor. Standing above him was my father, arms flexed at his sides. As he knelt beside the still form, he glanced up at me briefly before pressing his fingers to Ubu's throat.

"Father, what… why did you…?" I couldn't finish. I couldn't even move.

He rose to his feet and quickly approached me, "Ibn, I'm sorry you had to see that… but I can't do what I have to with Ubu standing by."

Unable to process his words, I finally managed to ask, "Where did you go? Mother and I… we…"

Instead of answering my question, he returned to his explanation, "It's all right… I want you to know that… I didn't come here on my own. Your grandfather took me against my will. I have… family and friends that are worried about me and I have to leave in order to find them. Do you understand?"

I shook my head slowly, "But I want to be your family."

He sighed before kneeling in front of me, his crystal blue eyes frighteningly similar to the ones I stared at in my bathroom mirror. Gently, he set both of his hands on my shoulders, "You are… Ibn. And that's why I want you to come with me."

That morning I woke with a smile on my face, excited about spending the first full day alongside my father. Less than three hours later, I was fighting back tears, trying to understand what the stranger before me was saying.

"I... I… what about Mother? And Grandfather?"

There was a brief moment when he hesitated and looked towards the door. When he glanced back at me, one of his hands reached up and wiped away a tear from my cheek, "We will find your mother. And she will go with us."

Fighting back a sniffle, I asked, "And Caesar?"

Despite the serious look I had seen on his face since he had struck down Ubu, the corner of his lip twitched slightly, "And Caesar."

Not a moment later, we stepped over Ubu's stilled body and made our way through the corridors back to my bedroom. Father paused and gestured me to do the same every so often. The second time, I followed his gaze upwards to the security cameras that were attached to the walls. Despite the books I read and the dreams I remembered, I had never felt like a detective until that very moment.

Sneaking through the halls on a secret mission, under the guidance of the world's greatest.

Upon arriving at my quarters, my father instructed me to gather a few belongings and to wait for him. When he moved towards the door, I asked where he was going. He was in the middle of his reply of "I need to find your mother," when a loud blaring sound echoed outside of my chamber door. Something I had heard only twice in my three years there.

My father suddenly became tense at the presence of the alarm going off. Instead of continuing out the door in search of Mother, he returned to my side, "Ibn, I need you to trust me."

"I do," I replied without hesitation.

"Either my friends have found their way here or your grandfather is doing everything he can to find me."

I didn't know what to say so I simply nodded.

He continued as he set his hand over mine, "We're going to have to leave sooner than I thought. We're going to have to leave right now."

Caesar, who had followed us from my mother's chambers, suddenly stepped forward. I looked at him briefly before looking up at my father, "Okay."

Not a moment later, I found myself in the hold of my father's strong arms, being carried out into the corridor. Caesar was quick to follow, his long strides easily keeping up with us. We were headed in the opposite direction of the rest of the living quarters. At the intersection I was forbidden to travel beyond, a pair of guards called out from behind us. I tried to crane my head back to see them but Father swiftly turned and darted down the left hand hallway.

I had a general idea of what was at the end of the hall. The guards training area, storage areas as well as exterior access through the airplane station. I had no doubt that Father would be able to get us out safely but I suddenly questioned whether or not he knew how to fly a plane.

Perhaps a question I should have asked him the night before.

V

Chapter 8: Gypsy Charm


	8. Gypsy Charm

Title: Son of the Father: Gypsy Charm

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

V

"He didn't tell me how to live – he lived and let me watch him do it."

Clarence Buddington Kelland

V

With time slipping away, I opted to ride in the Javelin alongside J'onn and Diana on the trans-Atlantic trek to Ra's' base. Robin was not far behind in the Bat-plane alongside Batgirl. In the lead was Superman, his ever-wary senses keeping us in the clear.

Despite what we knew about Bruce's abduction, there were far too many questions still looming over my head. We knew Ra's had forcefully taken him but was then willing to treat and care for his injuries once they had arrived at his base. IbnCorp had been the pseudonym used to cover his tracks, but we had yet to discover the importance of the term "son". Even further troubling was the fact that Ra's had made contact and then allowed Bruce to do the same.

But then again, someone had cut the transmission…

I had spent enough years at Bruce's side to know that Ra's Al Guhl was still dangerous even after discovering his plans; his ability to adlib an evil scheme was uncanny. Fairly early in my training as Robin, Bruce had once explained that a vast majority of the criminals we faced were predictable and not just in how they operated. He showed me the different ways they even responded to being in the presence of a vigilante.

Like how Two-Face would flip his coin.

How the Riddler and Penguin would flee after ordering their henchmen to take us on.

And how Poison Ivy would distract you with her pheromones and playful banter long enough to have her fast growing vines entangle your legs…

He also explained that a select few responded unpredictably. It was a very short list of criminals and Ra's al Guhl was number two. The Joker, naturally, was number one. With Ra's, he would either defend himself, sacrifice his men, use his daughter, betray his daughter, betray his men, abandon ship, self-destruct his base of operations or simply whip out a sword and start a fight to the death.

I was banking on him abandoning ship.

Armed as we were with brute force and intellect alike, we were still going in practically blind. The floor plans for the base were 71 likely to be accurate according to the file Bruce had attached to it. For the first half of the ride over the Atlantic, I had studied them religiously, taking note of camera locations, alcoves and high traffic areas. As for a plan of action… that required the duration of the second half of the trip.

"Oracle?" J'onn's smooth voice broke my tormented line of thought.

"ETA is less than thirty minutes now. The coordinates for the landing site are on their way to you now… It's a good five miles from the base so you'll have to fly in on your own. But at least the ship will be out of radar."

Even though Robin and Batgirl were both brilliant combatants, I was weary of putting them directly in danger. Hence making them come in the Bat-plane in order to hopefully keep enough lag time to prevent them from even entering the battle royale that kept playing over in my head. If something had or was going to happen to Bruce and possibly myself, someone had to be left standing for Gotham.

After Bruce had made contact from Ra's base, Oracle had been able to test her hacking fortitude successfully, showing that he was being held in the Matruh base. With Batman generally acting as the lead tactician, I had three pairs of the most powerful eyes on Earth staring at me to fill the void. After playing it over in my mind for a few hours, I finally formed and answer that I was sure would even impress my mentor, both for its simplicity and probability for success.

J'onn would be the first to go in, disguised as one of the security guards, passing through steel and lead walls as if it were an open window. After knocking out any of Ra's' men in the entrance bay, he would be able to let us in after Oracle electronically opened the door. This way, no alarms would attract any unnecessary attention until we were safely inside.

After splitting up, Superman and Wonder Woman would pose as a suitable distraction, soaring through the corridors, knocking over any one wearing black fatigues. Alongside J'onn, I would be able to make my way to the control room were Ra's would no doubt be ordering his flunkies to take no prisoners.

And that was about as far as I would dare go before the infamous alternate endings surfaced.

Obviously, the most desired one resulted in Bruce being in two pieces or less and all of us being able to make a clean getaway. But in the process, we would have disarmed and disbanded all of the Demon's resources with the least amount of bloodshed.

Second best, we made it out alive and well enough to face off with Ra's another day.

And from there…

I took a deep breath before speaking, "Let's see it, J'onn."

The Martian sitting beside me in the captain's chair of the Javelin transformed in less than a second from the muscular green humanoid form to the dark garbed sinister no-gooder that we would all be facing off with in mere minutes.

I forced a smirk, "Black... It looks good on you."

Reverting to his normal appearance, J'onn nodded before taking the Javelin off of autopilot, "I feel it suits your form better."

That time, my smirk was genuine, "Nah, it's always been Bruce's."

Upon landing, J'onn had us each check our telecommunication links, given that if something happened to him, the telepathic link would be compromised. Once satisfied our fallback method was in place, J'onn literally vanished before our eyes. In less than fifteen minutes he was due to give us the all clear to follow suit. In the event he didn't contact us, we would have gone ahead with our plan but with a certain degree of defeat hanging over us.

After the longest thirteen minutes of my life, I heard his voice in my own mind, "Everything is clear."

Wonder Woman, Superman and I quickly made our way to the secretive base entrance. It was no wonder that it hadn't stood out earlier; a massive sand dune engulfed a majority of the base with an entrance hidden in the faux dried remains of an oasis. Just as we landed on the ground, a small inlaid doorway opened to reveal J'onn's disguised form. We quickly entered; taking mere seconds to observe what appeared to be the base's aircraft hangar.

According the blueprints we were basing our attack on, the control room was centrally located, surrounded by a number of winding corridors meant to confuse those not intended to be present. Namely superheroes. Without hesitation, Wonder Woman and Superman quickly flew off in separate directions to begin the physical attacks while J'onn and I quickly made our way towards the control room.

I was just about to contact him on the telepathic link that things were going well when the crash of alarms fell over my ears. Not entirely unexpected but I had hoped to be a little further along before our presence warranted gunfire.

As I heard the faintest pops of bullets, J'onn's voice filled my ears; Superman and Wonder Woman have established a suitable diversion for at least three dozen guards.

They weren't shooting at me, I couldn't complain.

We continued to navigate the corridors, hopefully making our way to the control room. There, after disarming and knocking a few guards unconscious, we would be able to use the security system to locate Bruce as well as Ra's Al Guhl and his temptress of a daughter. After a fight to the near death with a fairly dramatic conclusion, I planned on knowing at least why Bruce had been kidnapped in the first place and hopefully why Bruce had stayed voluntarily.

Recalling the generic blueprints I had reviewed on the way over, I lead the way towards the center of the base, taking the shortest route possible while at the same time avoiding major intersections. As we turned left, I spotted the heavily protected entrance of the control room, distinguished by four armed guards as well as the bold printed metal sign above the doorway. A squawk on one of the guards' radios shouted a string of orders, far too fast for me to translate. They both armed their weapons simultaneously before heading off at a brisk jog, no doubt additional artillery called in to overpower Superman and Wonder Woman.

Good luck, fellas, I thought to myself.

We waited for thirty seconds before moving towards the doorway. Out of habit, I checked for the security cameras aimed at the door and was surprised to not find any in the entire corridor.

Expect the unexpected…

Equally unexpected, the lead lined steel door was unlocked.

Passing into the spacious and dimly lit room, it took only a moment to find the bank of nearly ten security monitors. As J'onn kept guard I toggled through the various screens, praying for a glimpse of Bruce.

As I spotted Ubu's unconscious form on what appeared to be a bedroom floor, I felt J'onn tense behind me.

As I turned around, I heard Ra's Al Guhl's voice, "I must say, Gypsy, I had expected you much later… Perhaps I have truly underestimated your charm."

I did nothing to hide the growl in my voice as I turned to face him, "Where is he, Ra's?"

As if we were humble guests and not intruders, Ra's strode passed J'onn and I, "I am afraid the state of alarm you have found my compound in is not only as a result of your presence… The Detective has managed to escape… a result of my daughter's grievous error in trusting him I fear."

I watched in surprise as he sat himself at the main console before proceeding to toggle through the screens as well. Images of men running, men shooting, Clark soaring by and then eventually nothing but screens full of black and white fuzz, "He has managed to corrupt my security system in several key locations… Not to mention render my bodyguard unconscious… and take captive something for which I hold very dear."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed J'onn's face twitch slightly.

"Where is he?" I asked, my tone much calmer than when I had asked Ra's.

"I… it is still difficult to connect with him telepathically… he is… distressed."

"Is he injured?"

Ra's stood and approached us, "I assure you he is not. Now, I will forgive this intrusion of yours given that the Detective is found and what is in his possession is returned to me, unharmed."

"And what exactly is this possession?"

The corner of Ra's' mouth rose slightly, "Certainly you will be able to use your keen detective mind to solve that mystery, Gypsy."

I glanced at J'onn who appeared to be in deep concentration, hopefully sorting through the countless frightened guards in order to find Bruce. His face grew confused for a moment before replying, "I've found him…"

"As have I."

I spun back towards Ra's who had found a camera still active. Very active. The air hangar we had entered the base from was flooded with armed men, all shooting towards a single target. Ra's toggled over one screen to offer a different point of view. A fraction of a head appeared from behind a steel door before disappearing once more. A second later, I spotted Bruce again as he exposed half of his body just long enough to throw a compressed air tank of oxygen towards his assailants. Before an order could be called to hold fire, a stray bullet caught the tank, releasing a ball of flames.

Ra's tensed and growled into a microphone on the console, "Hold your fire imbeciles!" He repeated himself three times before relenting, "The communication system is out…"

"Ours isn't…" I said, "Superman, Wonder Woman, get to the hangar, Bruce under heavy fire."

"Copy," Superman said over a reign of gunfire.

When I looked back to Ra's, he appeared frozen stiff. I looked down to see his hand grasping the end of his sword. I glanced back to J'onn who nodded, "If I let him kill you, Bruce would show no mercy on me."

Still restraining him telepathically, J'onn forced Ra's into the chair by the monitors, "I will stay with him, help the others."

"You're sure?"

With his incredible Martian strength, J'onn pulled a steel railing from the far wall and wrapped it around Ra's' torso. When he caught me looking in wonderment, he replied, "I am terrible at tying knots."

I began back tracking to the hangar, doing my best to avoid the corridors echoing with gunshots. Just as I passed the infirmary, I heard a very quiet click to my left. After stopping dead in my tracks, I looked to see Talia aiming a semi-automatic gun at my head.

"You will not take him from me."

"Talia, he's not yours to keep."

"He is mine. He is ours."

Angling my body at her, I used my right arm to release a tranquilizer dipped Batarang. I would have once chance to hit her, preferably above the belt before she let a few hundred rounds into me. Luckily for me, she was a terrible mark when she was upset.

"Talia, Bruce is trapped in the hangar, your father's men are going to kill him if we don't try to stop them."

Something washed over her eyes before she replied, "They wouldn't--."

"They would. They are. I just saw it on the security monitor… Bruce cut the communications so your father can't order them to back down… You have to come with me."

As another explosion sounded, she whispered, "Ibn," before taking off towards the hangar.

So she was in on this Ibn business as well. At least I knew who was going to be first on my interrogation list. After Bruce of course.

We made it to the hangar entrance just as Superman and Wonder Woman did. Diana glared when she recognized my company and began to lurch forward. Superman grabbed her by the gold plated wrist, "We don't have time for this…"

I put my hand on Talia's arm, "He's right. Can you see on the other side?"

Superman shook his head, the look on his face declaring him the biggest disappointment in the world. "I can't signal out the sounds on the other side, the echoes of the gunfire are overwhelming my senses. If I blast through and he's right there…"

"Wait," I stepped forward and pounded six times in a one-two fashion. Thirty seconds later, six bangs answered in the same order.

"He's there," I replied in Morse code for him to get away from the door. He responded for us to wait for him to say he was ready.

"What the hell for?" I muttered to myself.

For five minutes we waited in silence, listening to the gunfire and ricochets. Finally Superman stepped forward, "We can't wait… I'll go in, further down."

I wanted to trust that Bruce would knock on the door that he was ready but as we waited another minute, the gunfire ceased and something cold happened to my stomach. After a curt nod, Superman flew down ten yards and plowed through the wall.

With the return of gunfire came the horrific scream, "Nooo!"

My heart gave out momentarily before it began pumping in a frenzy. It wasn't Bruce, no matter how much it sounded like him. It had to be one of Ra's' men biting the bullet, certainly it wasn't Bruce no matter how much it had sounded like him.

As I raced to where Superman had passed into the hangar, I prepared myself for the worst. What I hadn't prepared for was Superman to collide into me, acting as my shield while restraining me. I vaguely heard him screaming at me to back down and my reply had been something filled with colorful language. I managed to push into the hangar briefly. When we had arrived it had been filled with a wide array of top of the line aircrafts. I t was nothing but smoke, rubble and flame with bullets whizzing madly. I looked towards the doorway, spotting an overturned steel workbench. And behind it, the form of the man I had come to rescue, sprawled face down on the ground.

I had to see him.

I had to know.

I needed to see he had taken a bullet or two but was okay for the most part. I needed to hear him critique my plan to save him all the way back to Gotham. I needed to hear Alfred lecture while he patched Bruce back together, always claiming it was going to be the last time.

I had to know he wasn't bleeding to death on the old floor of Ra's al Guhl's lair. I had to know why he chose to stay after being kidnapped and just what the hell this Ibn meant to him. I had to know I hadn't failed him.

As Superman held me tightly, pushing me out of the hangar, I thought to myself what I wouldn't have given for access to the K ring right then.

V

Next chapter: Tragic Ending


	9. Tragic Ending

Title: Son of the Father: Tragic Ending

Title: Son of the Father: Tragic Ending

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

A/N 2: Stay tuned for the epilogue, it's a doozie!

V

"I cannot think of any need in a childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection."

Sigmund Freud

V

Had the base alarm gone off thirty seconds later, I would have made it into the hangar and into one of the aircrafts with just enough time to open the bay doors and make my exit.

Unfortunately, we had still been in Ibn's room when the blaring sirens began, notifying everyone in the compound that something was amiss. As a result, we barely made it through the hangar doors before thirty armed men entered from the opposite side, taking shots at will.

After throwing the stunned boy to the ground, I pulled over a workbench to act as cover for us before glancing about for any available resources. There were three oxygen tanks that I could throw into the gunfire in addition to a minimal collection of tools that could act as impromptu Batarangs. I used what I had sparingly, being sure to aim as accurately and timely as possible to have the greatest impact. But it wasn't long before I was down to a wrench and Phillip's screwdriver.

As I tried to recalculate the distance from my location to the doorway, I suddenly realized Ibn had started to cry. Caesar stood over his master's body as if he would be able to ward off any harm. The boy was just six years old and caught in the midst of chaos. I had never been able to comfort scared victims in the mask but it was possible…

I sat with my back to the bench and motioned Ibn to come closer to me. He was hesitant, no doubt put off by my violent defensive actions, but finally crawled towards me before making his way onto my lap. I embraced the small boy and tried to talk over the racket, "I'm going to get us out of here, I promise."

Even though he had no chance of hearing me, he nodded before burying his tear stained face into my chest.

With bullets whizzing by, I found a far too honest clarity come over my mind. It had been foolish to think of escaping Ra's by myself let alone with his single heir. The brief amount of time I had been under Ra's' control I had been unable to remain focused, something which often proved fatal. My analytical mind had been left behind on the rooftop of Wayne Tower, leaving behind a void that was taken over by someone who was confused if not bewildered by the thought that he had a son.

If he was indeed mine.

I hadn't even paused to even consider it before; the child's strong resemblance had seemed to automatically deem him to be mine. Any other circumstance and I would have never even thought of accepting it without a barrage of genetic testing. Holding the trembling boy in my arms, I tried to detach myself emotionally in order to finally acknowledge the facts.

If he was a fraud, Ra's had certainly outdone himself. The correct age and looks right down to the ear lobes. However, it was awfully convenient for his adopted parents to tragically die. I wouldn't put it beyond my enemy's ability to murder two innocent people just to regain control of his heir. But why wait three years before telling me? Was it necessary to evaluate the child to see if he truly was the son of the father, the potential to become the twinkle in Ra's' icy eyes? Why lie to begin with, that Talia had miscarried all those years ago? Was it to fill me with vengeful anger in order to finally bring down Qaiyn?

Too many questions, too many uncertainties…

Ibn looked up at me, staring at me with the eyes I looked into every day in the mirror.

"Where's Mother?" he managed in between short breaths.

"Well find her, once we're safe, we'll find her."

Lies. The second I managed to get into one of the surviving planes I was heading as far away as possible. I once loved Talia but to allow her access to the boy, our son or not, would only lead us straight back into the hands of her father.

And no child deserved to live under him; Talia was living proof.

The dog's ears perked suddenly and he shot a look to the door. I glanced up as well and was shocked to hear six cyclical bangs. Earlier, when I had practically kidnapped Ibn, I had thought the sirens had been to announce my ill actions. I let a smirk grow on my face, knowing now that there were other troublemakers about.

I guided Ibn over to Caesar once more but when I let go, the boy panicked and latched back onto my arms. "I'll be right back, Caesar will protect you."

Finally, I untangled myself from him and somersaulted to the doorway. Luckily, part of one of the planes I had blown up with an oxygen tank had offered enough cover for me to quickly respond to Dick's message. When he said to get away from the door in Morse, I suddenly wondered if a certain Kryptonian was going to come barging through.

After a moment, I replied for them to wait for me to say, hoping for one last chance to end this before any more blood was spilled.

Returning to Ibn's side once more, the gunfire slowed and I heard several loud voices talking back and forth in Arabic.

I quickly translated their words in my head – Ubu says he has the boy.

- Hold your fire, men!

- Hold your fire or the Demon will have your head!

A hushed silence fell over what was left of the hangar. In the quiet, Ibn's cries were suddenly very noticeable. Several of the men that had taken position behind the ruined aircrafts stepped forward, calling out for a ceasefire and for me to relinquish Ibn.

He heard his name and cried louder before embracing me tighter, "I want to go with you!"

"You will," I found myself replying.

I was just about to call back to the men when I realized I had yet to respond to Dick. Leaving Ibn in Caesar's care once more, I rose with my hands up moving slowly towards the door. The men trained their weapons on me but I hoped that no one dared to pull the trigger. If harming the Demon's heir was worthy of capital punishment, I wondered what fate they would suffer for killing me.

Or reward.

They called out again but before I could respond a tremendous sound came from further down the wall and a puff of dust and a flash of red and blue interrupted. The guns shifted towards Superman and opened fire, bullets bouncing off of him left and right. As I dove to cover Ibn, I felt a flash of white hot pain in my arm and another in my chest.

I fell to the ground mere feet from Ibn who had buried his face in the dog's thick chest. When I called out his name, a metallic taste came to the back of my throat and my voice failed me.

The dog had heard me and rose to his feet, still standing beside his master but staring intently at me. He let out a low bark and took a step forward, as if directing Ibn's attention. When the boy opened his eyes, the tears that had been brimming suddenly overflowed, "Father!"

Without hesitation, he rose to his feet and ran to me, grabbing my arm as if his tiny form was able to drag me to safety. Keeping my wounded arm to my torso, I managed to crawl as he valiantly tried to help. We were nearly to the workbench we had been hiding behind for what seemed like an eternity when I looked up at him and smirked, "My hero."

After letting him help me sit up, I felt my chest tighten with each breath. No doubt a pneumothorax was forming as air escaped my lungs and filled my chest cavity. I made my breaths as slow and shallow as possible in order to conserve oxygen. Ibn's small hands suddenly pressed hard on my chest to ebb the flow of blood as he declared, "I'll save you, fath--."

Another ricocheting bullet caught me on the left side of my head, grazing my temple and the top of my ear before moving on. Had Ibn been sitting on my lap as he had been earlier, it would have cleared him by a good six inches. But he hadn't been sitting, he had been standing.

He had been saving me.

The bullet hit him square in the sternum causing him to take a step back. One of his hands rose to touch the red that was beginning to spill over the front of his shirt and a confused look washed over his features. He stood for a moment longer before letting out a rush of air from his lips as he dropped to his knees in front of me.

Despite the fact that I could barely breath and that I was losing blood with each beat of my heart, I bellowed, "Nooooo!!" and reached out for him just as he collapsed. Instinct fought with gut wrenching fear as I pressed my hand firmly on the front of his chest.

Just as he had done for me…

As he began coughing I rolled him onto his side doing my best not to notice the volume of blood that flowed from his lips.

Lips that had smiled at me last night when he put me in check with his white knight…

With light-headedness filling me, I laid him back down, frantically taking his vitals with my injured arm. I leaned forward, pressing my ear to his chest, confused to hear only ringing. I tried listening with the other ear and heard nothing but gurgling.

"Ibn, hang on, I'll save you, son."

His blue eyes slowly moved back and forth, finally locking in on my face.

… Are you really him?

… Who?

… My father?

He coughed again and whispered something. The ringing in my ear forced me to lean forward again. It took all of his effort to repeat himself, "My… hero."

When I sat up again, I heard coughing but noticed he wasn't moving. It took a moment to realize it was my turn to choke on my own blood. I felt for his pulse once more but my fingers were trembling and wouldn't keep still long enough.

His eyes were still trained on my face…

The same eyes I looked into every morning in the mirror…

My son…

After one final cough, I hunched over him, breathing what air I had left from my lungs into his. I compressed his chest with my good hand, doing my best to keep myself upright with the one that was wet and sticky. It gave three times, and on the fourth, I couldn't rise again. Lying beside him, I promised I was going to save him.

I promised we were going to get out of here.

… And Caesar? I thought I heard him ask.

And Caesar, too.

… And Mother?

Of course, your mother as well.

… My hero.

I looked at his face one last time and somehow found the ability to smile. Such a beautiful child… and I was going to take him from this horrid place to make life anew in Gotham. I wouldn't force him to take the guise of Robin, hell, I wouldn't even encourage it. He deserved a normal life with move theatres and ice cream cones and scabs on his knees from riding his bicycle too fast.

He deserved to be happy…

When I opened my eyes, the face in front of me was not a six-year-old boy with unruly black hair and piercing blue eyes.

It was a man who had seen me grow up from being a six-year-old boy with unruly black hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Master Bruce?"

Even if I had wanted to respond I felt the uncomfortable presence of an intubation tube and the force fed flow of oxygen. Aside from that, I was unable to feel much else aside from the unnatural warmth in my veins from analgesics.

"Sir, can you hear me?"

I blinked once slowly, not only to respond to him but to try and clear my vision. My left eye was significantly blurry but after a moment the right came into fairly clear view.

"Sir, you've been unconscious for almost a week. You've suffered fairly sever internal injuries in your chest in addition to the bullet that grazed your left temple. Luckily the bullet that passed through your arm did very minimal tissue damage aside from severing part of the cuboidal artery…"

I faded out before he could finish listing off my injuries.

When I woke again, the room was darkened save for a bedside lamp and the illumination of vital monitors. Barbara was dozing in her wheelchair, an open medical journal in her lap. Reaching up with my right hand, I touched the tube inserted in my mouth and prepared to remove it when soft fingers touched mine, "Don't even think it. Your teeth haven't been brushed in seven days, I am not resuscitating you."

I slowly let my hand fall and did my best to hold her gaze. With her undivided attention, I raised my hand again and spelt Dick's name in sign language.

"He's fine. You're actually the only one injured from this whole ordeal, interesting considering they came to save you."

… I'll save you fath--.

My breathing hitched suddenly and I spelt Ibn's name.

"After Superman went in to pull you out of the hangar, we lost Talia. In the heat of the moment, we focused on you instead of our captive-slash-accomplice. By the time we realized how badly you were hurt, we had to leave as soon as possible, so it wasn't feasible to search the compound to find her. J'onn had been mentally interrogating Ra's during the entire operation but he was unsuccessful in finding out who Ibn is…. And when we went back to the base, Ra's, of course, had destroyed it--."

Interrupting her, I signed, There was a boy with me.

"What boy, Bruce?"

Struggling to sign one handed, I managed, The boy that was shot, he was lying right next to me.

"Bruce… You were alone when Superman finally got to you. He had to physically restrain Dick to keep him from barging in and killing himself. Wonder Woman almost had to tie him up with her lasso. But Superman found you lying behind a table, unconscious and bleeding half to death. No boy."

Trying to recall everything in those final moments before I had passed out, I heard Barbara ask, "Was this boy being held captive, is that why you stayed, to save him?"

My hand fell to the bed once more and I didn't attempt to raise it again. In my delirious state in the hangar, I was certain he had responded to me when we had been lying together on the floor. Medically, there was no chance he would have survived the wound and he must have died shortly after being shot.

But… where was the body?

Another fourteen hours passed before Alfred extubated me. Dick watched on eagerly, no doubt prepared to question me about the last few days. Instead of offering answers to appease his worried mind, I ignored him. Told him it was Ra's just trying to keep me out of his way again.

Dick was not impressed but instead of pushing the matter, he said for me to get some rest and we'd talk later.

Ordered to bed rest, I used the time to do a bit of my own investigating. I hacked into the orphanage system in England and narrowed the search based on the details I knew about Ibn, both his physical appearance and what little he had told me.

Six years earlier, an orphanage just outside of Bristol, England adopted an unnamed infant with blue eyes and black hair to Mr. and Mrs. Patrick Caine, owners of Caine's Baked Goods. The child's file, luckily, had been backed up on their computer in order to save space in the office, scanned haphazardly with a fairly grainy quality that suggested poor equipment.

Although the name of the parents were left blank a brief description was listed under "Reason for Surrender": The mother of the child has a high place in middle eastern society and the father of the child is an American. Although her father lawfully wed them, as her customs dictate, the falling out between the child's father and maternal grandfather may place the child in harm's way. The mother asks the child never be told the reason for being surrendered until he is of a legal age. The mother also requests that the orphanage keep the child's sole possession (see photograph on next page) safe until his adoption, where the adopted parents must keep the item until the child is of an age where he is able to possess it."

I slowly scanned down to the next page.

What I saw made my breath hitch. Shortly after I had wed Talia, I had given her a necklace of golden scarabs encrusted with jewels. She had promised to think of me whenever she wore and that she would wear it forever…

"Bruce?"

I closed the laptop and looked up as Dick walked into my bedroom. I cleared my throat in hopes of trying to refocus my attention, "What is it?"

He looked down at me for a moment before reclining in the chair at my bedside, "I know… you're not a traitor. Wonder Woman thinks that you've gone to the Dark Side because you refuse to talk about what happened in Egypt."

"It doesn't matter now. What's done is done."

After a curt nod, Dick continued, "I know… but, I can't help but wonder… Why did you stay? I mean, were you helping Ra's find this Ibn character, like you helped him with Qaiyn? Is this guy still out there?"

I hesitated, knowing that lying to him would only further stretch our already strained relationship.

… But Grandfather calls you the Detective, he wouldn't lie to me.

… Neither would I.

"Ibn is dead," I said, my voice stoic but my throat clenched after each word.

"But, who was he?"

He was the heir to Ra's Al Guhl's evil empire.

He was the miracle resulting for the love Talia and I once shared.

He was a boy who loved cheesecake, watching the stars and his best friend, Caesar.

He was…

"My son."

V

Next: Epilogue – Beginning of the End


	10. Epilogue Beginning of the End

Title: Son of the Father: Epilogue – Beginning of the End

Title: Son of the Father: Epilogue – Beginning of the End

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T for mild language and violence.

Summary: Ra's Al Guhl emerges once more to confront Batman, although this time the Demon's Head is not looking to be a foe.

Infringement: Batman and all recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: I originally posted this way back when, but I have revamped it and finally gasp finished it. This story is based upon events seen in "Batman: Son of the Demon".

V

"I have had a hard life, but my hardships are nothing against the hardships that my father went through in order to get me where I started."

Bartrand Hubbard

V

"The Martian knows?"

"Yes."

"… Shall I--."

"No, Ubu. The Detective is unlikely to tell the others of what has transpired here… And in the grand scheme, the Martian knows nothing of any magnitude."

"… Yes, sire… A communication is incoming, sire."

"Father?"

"My dear daughter, I expected you to contact me much sooner."

"… Your men nearly killed my beloved. And they slew our child in cold blood."

"A tragic error, daughter, one for which each of them are paying for in the bowls of Hell, I am sure."

"You ordered them to--."

"May I remind you, daughter that it is under my grace that you are in the position you find yourself… Talia?"

"… Yes, father. I am thankful, father…"

"The loss of your child was necessary, as was injuring the Detective. Had it not been the circumstance, the wretched Justice League would have taken the both of them without hesitation. We would have then lost the both of them."

"Of course, Father."

"Sire."

"Ah, yes. Dr. Weltman."

"All is ready, sire, will you be joining me down on the deck?"

"Yes, I believe I will… Ubu, escort Talia from her chambers to the operation deck."

"Yes, sire."

…

"I want all weapons cleared from this area immediately, absolutely no armaments of any kind."

"But what if--."

"Dr. Weltman, this is nothing we haven't dealt with before."

"Of course. Shall I begin, sire?"

"Talia?"

"Yes… Please, father."

"You may commence, Dr. Weltman."

…

…

…

"Vitals are coming through, pulse, temperature, blood pressure…"

"Excellent, Dr. Weltman."

…

"Ubu, prepare yourself."

"Yes, sire."

"And be careful."

"Yes, sire."

…

…

…

"Process is complete."

"Very good, proceed, Dr. Weltman."

"Father… Look…"

"Beautiful, yes… Ubu, go on."

"Grrnt."

"Fr. Frah. Fraaaah!"

"Gentle, Ubu!"

"Yes, oomph, sire."

"Fraaaaaaahhhh! Traaaaaaaahhhh!"

"Dr. Weltman, quickly now."

"It won't take much, but I would rather it be fairly strong…"

"Fraaaaaaaaah-traaaaaaaaaaahhhr!"

"Whatever it takes, it needs to be painless."

"Fraaah-traaahhrrr… Faaah… Faaah… Fr…"

"That should do it."

"Daughter, it is safe now… Go on."

"Are you sure you do not want to--."

"I have all the time in the world… this is your moment to share, as it was the first time."

"… Thank you, father."

"Frah.. faaah.. fah…"

"I'm here… I'm here for you…"

"Complete success, sire, one-hundred percent normalcy."

"Excellent work as always, Dr. Weltman."

"Thank you, sire."

"Ubu come to me."

"Yes, sire."

"Daughter, do not cry… I promised everything would be all right, did I not?"

"Y-yes, you did, Father."

"That's what fathers are for. To protect you. To save you…"

"He will be back once more… when you are older. When you are wiser."

"Fah- …"

"Rest now, my dear Ibn…"

…

"Fah...ther."

V


End file.
